


R is for Reverse

by Daikon (Daikon1)



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Memory Loss, Mutual Pining, POV Chiba Mamoru, Pining, Sailor Moon R: Makaiju Arc, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 77,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daikon1/pseuds/Daikon
Summary: What if, at the beginning of the Makaiju arc, Tuxedo Mask was reawakened, but none of the Senshi were? And what does that mean for our favorite couple?
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi
Comments: 165
Kudos: 175





	1. For Whom is the Red Rose? Tuxedo Mask is Back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired (and also Beta’d) by the wonderful FloraOne and her Tumblr wish for an AU fic where “Mamoru remembers and she doesn’t and he’s jealous AF about Seijuro.”  
> The opening bit of dialogue here happened to pop into my head, and the rest is history. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

“Really?” Mamoru tried, and failed, to keep the disgust out of his voice as he watched the retreating form of the redheaded boy who he’d just overheard Usagi call ‘Seijuro-kun’ disappear down the street. “ _That_ guy?”

She sniffed, straightening her back in righteous indignation. “Seijuro-kun is nice to me, Baka,” she informed him primly. Mamoru’s stomach sank as she self-consciously turned her head away from him and cupped Seijuro’s bouquet of roses to her chest protectively.

 _I’m nice to you,_ he wanted to say, except he knew he wasn’t, not really. He tried to be, now, but a couple weeks of attempts couldn’t erase months of bad learned behavior, nor the social ineptitude that came with eleven years of loneliness.

“I bet he’s nice to everyone,” he drawled instead. “I bet he treats you just like _everybody else_ and you’ve built up this idea in your head that it means he likes you. You should really want more from a guy than just ‘nice.’”

He hadn’t _understood_ at the time, and he had ruined _everything,_ and he would never forgive himself for all the terrible things he’d said to her – the things he now _kept_ saying to her – in those two months. Those wasted two months between the afternoon when Usagi had hit him in the head with her test paper (again) outside OSA-P and the night two weeks ago when that mysterious asteroid had landed and somehow jarred loose long-forgotten memories of past lives and superheroes and a twice-over doomed love.

Mamoru hadn’t yet been able to decide if the fact that she didn’t remember was a mercy or a torment.

She whirled her head to glare at him, her blonde pigtails swishing behind her dramatically. “He does _not_ treat me just like everybody else,” she said, holding her flowers up in an angry testament. “And I know it’s a foreign concept to _you_ , Mamoru-baka, but _most_ girls are looking for someone nice. That’s probably why no girl in her right mind would come near _you_ with a ten-foot pole.”

In his more rational moments – during those nights when he lay awake staring at the ceiling _not_ rehearsing in his head what he might say to her when he ran into her tomorrow to make her fall in love with him, too – he would remind himself that loving him had gotten her killed. Twice, now. And really, his dying wish had been for her to find herself a ‘cool boyfriend’ who wouldn’t immaturely tug her pigtails, inadvertently dim her light, and selfishly get her killed, over and over again – so he would resolve, in the quiet of midnight, to let her go.

And then the very next day he would see that smug flute-playing Casanova-wannabe third-year student flirting with her on the street, Usagi blushing prettily and shyly flirting back, and both his carefully hardened resolve and deliberately rehearsed lines went straight out the window. Again and again, he found himself back here: with Usagi’s feelings hurt by his stupid, impulsive mouth and no idea how to make it right.

_I couldn’t give a damn what **most** girls are looking for. _

But he didn’t have a chance to rebut her accusation; whatever cutting retort he was about to blurt out and then deeply regret later was (mercifully) interrupted by a cheery “Yoo-hoo, Mamoru-kun!”

Though the interruption had been welcome, he wasn’t able to fully suppress his look of dawning horror as Ginga Natsumi appeared across the intersection, waving frantically to him with a big, beaming smile on her face. _Really, her again? And did she have to keep showing up when he ran into Usagi?_

Before either he or Usagi had a chance to react, Natsumi had jogged across the street and cuddled her way into the crook of Mamoru’s arm.

“Oh, Tsukino-san, you’re here, too,” Natsumi said, her gaze flicking suspiciously between the pair of teenagers as Mamoru surreptitiously attempted to dislodge her from his forearm; Natsumi, in turn, tightened her grip.

“Actually, I was just leaving,” Usagi said. “Have… fun, I guess.” It was her turn to look suspicious – but that was probably just wishful thinking on Mamoru’s part – and then she turned to continue on her way, leaving him alone with just the attentions of his unwanted admirer.

 _It’s not like that!_ he wanted to call after the odangoed blonde, but she was gone before he had a chance. She probably wouldn’t have cared, anyway.

Mamoru exhaled, again attempting to disentangle his arm from Natsumi, who giggled and continued to cling. “Oh, Mamoru-kun, isn’t it a lovely evening? I was just planning to go to Karaoke, would you like to come with me?”

A sudden and familiar pang of awareness jolted through his mind and he managed to bristle even more under Natsumi’s touch. “N-no, not right now,” he said, narrowly avoiding stumbling as his free hand shot up to cup his temple. “I have to go.” He swallowed hard, shaking the girl off and ignoring her protests.

Twice now since regaining his memories, he’d felt the prolonged prickle in his subconscious signaling the presence of a Cardian before it attacked, but this – he hadn’t felt this overwhelming sense of dread since… his last lifetime.

_Usagi was in danger._

* * *

No more than two minutes could have passed before he arrived at the park, pulled by that persistent, knowing thread of peril, but it felt like hours. With each step, his mind tortured him with images of a beaten and bleeding Usagi, unable to protect herself, at the mercy of a Cardian.

The scene that greeted him as he landed on a tree branch was not the gory one from his worst nightmares. Instead, he found two girls standing before a giant pink lion as an eerie green wheel spun in the air over them.

Kino Makoto was bruised, a scratch running down her cheek, but she stood in a fighting stance, hands ready to strike. A visibly trembling Usagi stood barely behind her, clutching a bunch of flowers to her chest – but both girls were still standing. As he surveyed the scene, he released a shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. Then, he conjured a rose, intent on halting the beast that advanced on the teens.

Before he had a chance to throw his weapon, though, the monster lunged forward. She rose to her hind legs, yelling “Falion!” and swiped her great claws. Usagi squealed and skittered back, windmilling her arms.

The Cardian’s claws missed Usagi by only a few inches, instead shredding the flowers that Usagi had inadvertently thrown between them. As her precious bouquet was destroyed, Usagi’s jaw dropped in utter indignation. She stood to her full 4’11” and fisted her hands against her hips in a familiar pose.

“Hey!” she cried. “How dare you destroy the first bouquet a young girl was ever given! Don’t you know that such romantic keepsakes are meant to be kept and treasured forever?!”

At her words, something froze in his chest. He didn’t want Usagi treasuring a gift from some other guy, and a part of him was sadistically satisfied to see those roses destroyed. He also knew she wouldn’t have accepted something like that from him anyway, and he was stung by the reminder.

In the meantime, the lion took another swipe at Usagi, and Makoto dove, tackling her to the ground just in time to prevent her head from being taken off. “Usagi-chan, what are you _doing_?!” Makoto cried, and Usagi blinked, startled.

“I have no idea!!” She cried before looking up at the Cardian, now looming over them. “Eeeee, someone save us!!”

This was his cue; a red rose split the evening air, embedding itself in the creature’s paw.

Falion screamed her name in anguish, and Tuxedo Mask leapt from his perch to the ground, his cape a swishing blur of crimson. “Under the moonlight, the tender heart of a girl must be defended. I, Tuxedo Mask, protector of pure maidens, will not forgive you.”

He didn’t trust himself to look back at the girls; he had deliberately landed so that he was between them and the enemy. From the way the back of his neck tingled, he suspected that, behind him, Usagi was swooning.

But he could not afford that distraction. He would not allow harm to come to her just to satisfy his burning desire to know whether she still had a crush on his alter-ego. And so, instead, he reached out and pulled Endymion’s sword into this plane of existence – tamping down on the nausea he felt whenever he touched the cold steel handle of the sword he’d once nearly used to filet Sailor Moon – and centered his attention on the beast before him.

In response, the lion exhaled a breath of powerful energy, nearly knocking Tuxedo Mask off his feet. He maintained his bearings, but was rattled by the shrieking of the two girls behind him.

Tightening his grip on the sword, he narrowed his eyes at the Cardian before flicking his gaze up to observe the green wheel, slowly rotating above their heads. _Haven’t seen that before._

A fresh rose had materialized in his free hand before he could blink. He launched it into the spokes of the wheel, gratified when his magical projectile shattered the spinning object. The lion rose up on her haunches, screeching, and falling fragments of the crumbling wheel sent bolts of electricity crackling throughout her body. Tuxedo Mask lunged forward with his sword, lopping her head from her body with a clean stroke. The pieces of the monster’s body collapsed to the ground, still screaming, and dissolved into a tarot card which then gradually faded to black.

He turned, flinging his cape over his shoulder, to watch the two girls who were climbing unsteadily back to their feet. Instinctively, he stepped forward, offering a hand. “Usagi…”

Usagi blinked beautiful blue eyes up at him, her mouth falling open in a little ‘o.’ “Do I… do we know each other?”

He narrowly avoided stepping away from her reaction. He wasn’t used to a world where he couldn’t address her casually, where she wasn’t Sailor Moon.

He wasn’t ready for a world where she didn’t _know_ him.

“You do not know me. They call me Tuxedo Mask. I’m here to help you.” And, because he was a possessive asshole and he couldn’t shake the memory of that obsequious jerk smiling at her over the bouquet, he couldn’t resist. He leaned forward in a little bow, conjuring a new rose for her – this one white. “To replace the ones you lost,” he offered.

A strawberry flush swept over her face and settled across her cheeks as she shyly took the flower from him. Once she had taken the rose – her face even more pleased than when she’d spoken to Seijuro earlier that day, a vicious part of his subconscious noted – and Makoto had cleared her throat to remind the two that yes, she _was_ still there, he realized what he was doing. He awkwardly stepped back and bowed again – this time to both of them – before fleeing. He vaulted first into a nearby tree, and then disappeared into the shadows of the park with a second leap.

Moments later, he closed his eyes and pressed his back into the trunk of the tree that he’d settled into. He felt dizzy from the battle. Tuxedo Mask had always been a protector; he wasn’t used to fighting alone yet. As he allowed his hammering heartbeat to return to normal, his continued presence shrouded by leaves, he realized that if he squinted, he could still make out the outlines of Makoto and Usagi below him. _What were they doing out alone in a park when a Cardian attacked, anyway?_ He blew out a puff of air as he trained his ears to their conversation, needing to know why the object of his protection had put herself in so much danger.

“Mako-chan, are you okay?”

“Yeah…” The taller girl’s eyes were scanning the tree line before she looked down at Usagi and smiled. “Just glad that weirdo in a suit popped up when he did. Now that monster won’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

“Weirdo!!” wailed Usagi. “Were we looking at the same guy?!? He was totally dreamy!!”

That selfish place inside of him thrummed. _She did still like Tuxedo Mask in this new life._

He heard Makoto chuckle. “Okay, okay, he did have that tall, dark, and handsome thing going on… just like the guy who broke my heart…” There was a brief pause, just shy of awkward, in which Makoto’s face took on a slight starry-eyed expression, before she pressed on. “But he didn’t even _look_ at me. I’m not falling for _another_ guy who is so clearly already into someone else.”

Usagi spluttered in response, and Mamoru felt his lips quirk up involuntarily. _She was always cutest when she was flustered._ It was part of why he enjoyed teasing her so much.

“He knew my name…” mumbled Usagi, contemplating the white rose he had given her before she looked up at Makoto with bright, excited eyes. “If he knew my name… Do you think he’s someone I know in real life?! Earlier today this really cute boy, Seijuro-kun, gave me roses on the street… do you think they could be the same guy?!”

At this, his head thunked back against the wood of the tree, nearly knocking his top hat to the ground and giving away his position.

_Oh, for the love of…_


	2. Where are the Sailor Guardians? Tuxedo Mask Fights Alone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to FloraOne for Beta’ing for me, and big giant hugs to everyone who’s reviewed, followed, kudos’d, reblogged, or fav’d my story – I am having so much fun writing it, and am so thrilled that you’re enjoying it too!!

The lingering adrenaline of battle slowly dissipated from his veins as he made his way from the park to the Crown Video Arcade, but the tension remained rigid throughout his frame. He absently hoped that the occupants of the houses he was traversing this evening were already asleep, because he didn’t currently have the presence of mind to gentle the sound of his landings as he jumped from roof to roof. Instead, his thoughts centered on one question: _What had Usagi been doing in that park, so close to danger?_

The lights of the arcade were off as Tuxedo Mask landed before its locked and gated doors with his customary flourish. He glanced up and down the street to confirm that it was empty of potential witnesses before he deftly pulled his multitool from his tuxedo pocket. Hours of practice in the past paid off now; the lock clicked open after only a few seconds of tinkering, and he was able to slide the unlocked security gate up. Swiftly and effortlessly, he pried open the sliding doors, pressing them closed again behind him. Only once he was safely ensconced in a booth did he finally drop his transformation, his eveningwear melting back into green tweed and soft lilac cotton.

It was a few minutes, which he filled by tapping his knuckles against the Formica of the tabletop and wondering if Motoki would know tomorrow if he made himself a coffee, before a pair of gleaming golden eyes emerged from the shadows next to the game machines.

He’d been waiting for her, but he was still slightly startled when Luna hopped up to the seat of the booth and then sat down on the table in front of him. As she settled, Mamoru grit his teeth at her. “Why was she fighting a Cardian tonight?” he asked Sailor Moon’s feline guardian, and the cat released a slow exhale.

It was weird that nightly check-ins with Usagi’s pet could have become routine after only two weeks. Bizarre to think that it had been only fifteen days since the night of the asteroid crash. That had also been the night when he’d awoken, sweating and shaking, from dreams of fire and blood and tear-filled blue eyes, with the word ‘Serenity’ on his lips.

Two weeks ago, everything had changed.

* * *

In the light of morning, it should have been easy to excuse his newfound knowledge of Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask as the caffeine-addled nightmares of someone who’d read one too many science fiction novels and then witnessed a space-related natural disaster. Easy to pretend that the only reason Odango Atama had made an appearance in them had been because he’d bickered with her at the site of the crater. Yet, something about the idea of dismissing his dreams out of hand had left him feeling uneasy. That lingering sense of unease had followed him throughout the day and into the evening, up until he’d heard screaming as he was leaving the Crown to walk back to his apartment.

For a moment, he had thought the sound of the unearthly wail would somehow split his head in two – then, everything had snapped back, and he’d found himself dressed in a bow tie and cape. He hadn’t had time to wonder at this change, however, because the next thing he’d witnessed was a hulking plant-creature, shaped much like a woman, running into an alleyway and pursued by two cats: one white, one black. Then, he had heard another shriek, and he’d been moving before he’d even realized.

The creature had soared into a window above the alleyway, and Tuxedo Mask had followed her. Inside the bedroom, he found that she had pinned a redheaded girl – _Osaka Naru_ , some useless part of his brain had supplied – to a bed. A sinister smile twisted the monster’s face as she’d used some kind of prehensile vines to drain the life out of the girl. The girl had yelped in pain, the sound weak, and Mamoru heard, with a flash of dread, a familiar voice coming from the phone splayed out across the floor: “Naru-chan?! Naru-chan!! I’ll be right there; it’s going to be okay!”

The flower had formed between his fingertips without conscious intent. This _thing_ could not have Usagi. He wouldn’t allow it. With a deadly accuracy he hadn’t known he possessed, he’d slashed the air with the razor-tipped rose, sending it flying into the creature’s face.

She had howled, unwinding her vines from Naru’s limp body and lashing out at him instead. He’d stumbled back, muscle memory somehow rusty, and narrowly dodged the assault. His right hand had flown out and cleft the air, and he’d found his fingers closing down on the metal handle of a strangely familiar weapon. Without thinking too hard about where it had come from, he’d rushed forward, slashing at the creature. He’d registered voices murmuring somewhere behind him, but he tuned them out, keeping his attention on this immediate threat.

His second strike had landed, severing the thing’s hand and removing her grasping vines. She’d screeched in response before running for the open window and diving out of it. His body on autopilot, he had dashed after her, vaulting back into the alley, his hand clutching tight to this mysterious sword.

His heart had been in his throat as he’d pursued the fleeing monster. Wounded or not, he’d known he had to kill her quickly – he could not allow anyone else to be caught in the crossfire. He’d taken a large hurdle step before bounding into the air – higher than he’d ever realized he could jump – and found himself landing in front of the retreating creature.

She’d recoiled as he’d spun around to face her. His rose protruded from the bloody mess of her ruined left eye, but the right had been full of fear and malice. He had not given her time to react further, instead bringing the sword down in a swift stroke, dragging the blade down from her left shoulder to her right hip. She had screamed the word “Vampir!” while shaking apart; her body had disintegrated, leaving nothing behind but a small rectangle of cardstock that had faded into a matte black.

He had then exhaled and looked down at himself, finally taking in his appearance unfettered. He was wearing the outfit he’d dreamed for Tuxedo Mask. _Had this whole day been nothing but an extended dream?_ But he hadn’t had time to contemplate this – instead, he had been suddenly greeted by the two cats from earlier, running up to meet him.

“Mamoru-san!” the black cat had cried in the voice of a young woman, and he’d blinked. _Definitely still dreaming._ It was the obvious conclusion. “Mamoru-san,” repeated the cat as she looked up at him. “Do you remember?”

“You’re Usagi’s cat,” he’d said, after a moment of inspecting her. “Luna, right?”

He remembered saving this cat from being flattened by a truck once – or… had he? A blinding sense of déjà vu had enveloped him as similar half-memories assaulted his senses – teasing Usagi after he caught her yelling at her cat in the street, he and Usagi being convinced to sit for a painting, being trapped in an elevator with Usagi before she’d transformed into Sailor Moon and saved them both – and for a second, he hadn’t been sure if it was possible to simultaneously remember these things and how to breathe. “Why… How can I remember things that never happened?”

Luna’s eyes had flicked down to the concrete. “They did happen.” Her voice had been soft, pained. “You all died defeating The Dark Kingdom. But Usagi wished…”

“She… wished we’d forget,” he’d whispered with a pained sense of certainty.

Tsukino Usagi loved with all her heart and spent her entire allowance on milkshakes and arcade games and had never wanted the responsibility of fighting to save the world. _Of course_ she would wish that they’d forget. Of course she’d want to set them all free. But now he remembered, and it was as if his world had reoriented around him.

The reality of the previous night’s dreams snapped into place, and with them came a sudden, unshakeable understanding. There was a reason why he couldn’t seem to stop himself from teasing Tsukino Usagi. A reason why the mornings that she _didn’t_ crash into him during her mad dash to school left him with an odd feeling of melancholy. Why he always opted to study at the Crown, even though he got more done in the library. A reason that his single-minded determination to eviscerate the enemy had started the moment he’d heard her voice coming through Osaka Naru’s telephone receiver.

It was a reason that, as an orphan, he hadn’t been equipped to explain until he’d abruptly remembered what it had felt like to love Princess Serenity, a thousand lifetimes ago.

It was the same warmth that he'd always felt in the presence of Sailor Moon - in the presence of _Tsukino Usagi._ It was the unfamiliar emotion that had threatened to split his chest apart when she had transformed in front of him and revealed that they were one-and-the-same.

_Oh._

But this revelation brought with it a whole mess of new and more daunting obstacles. Not once had he said a single complementary thing to Tsukino Usagi – only to her alter egos. And even that complication paled in comparison to – He had closed his eyes and cupped his hand over his mouth, fighting against the wave of revulsion. His fingers finally uncurled, and he dropped the sword that he had plucked from the air.

Their final meeting in their most recent life played in his head with perfect clarity, and, for the first time in his seventeen years, he genuinely longed to forget. 

She’d still loved him then, despite his boot to her ribcage, his impassive expression as he’d electrocuted her. Tsukino Usagi wasn’t in the business of giving up on the people she cared about – and Sailor Moon idolized Tuxedo Mask; Serenity loved Endymion. But Usagi… The idea of Tsukino Usagi settling for Chiba Mamoru out of a sense of obligation made him feel nearly as sick as the memory of his fingers clenched around her throat. He would not allow these echoes of their past to cage her heart in the way that being Sailor Moon had once caged her life. 

“Now that a new enemy has emerged, we may need Sailor Moon again.” He had heard the white cat saying, and Mamoru had snapped to attention instantly, his eyes wide.

“I don’t want to do that to her,” Luna had said. “She wished to forget. Reawakening her would be cruel…”

“Don’t wake her,” he’d managed to choke out. “I can do this alone. Let her have her normal life.” _Let her be safe_. _Please_. _Safe from me, and from everything else in this world._

* * *

Eyes flicking up from the arcade table, he now stared at the cat sitting before him, his expression tight. “Why the _hell_ was she fighting a Cardian tonight,” he repeated, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Wasn’t that the whole point? To let her be a normal girl, to protect her from this crap?”

“Well, I can’t exactly tell her not to go places,” snapped Luna, looking miffed. “Most ‘normal girls’ don’t expect their pet cat to talk to them.”

“But why was she there in the first place,” he muttered, still annoyed. “I didn’t think she even knew Kino Makoto in this life.”

Luna shrugged – an impressive feat for a creature with no collarbones – and said “She’s _Usagi_. You can’t be surprised that she made a new friend, especially not one who she’s known in so many of her past lifetimes.”

He managed to suppress his flinch. It was true that he didn’t want her to be with him out of some misguided loyalty to Endymion’s memory, but it still stung that Usagi seemed preternaturally drawn to all the people from her past lives – except for him.

Luna continued on, either not noticing or not caring about his discomfort. “Besides, they go to the same school, so they’re bound to get to know one another. Now, if you’re ready to get down to business?” Mamoru didn’t answer, choosing to huff instead, and the cat pressed on. “You’re doing well keeping up with the Cardians,” she said. “Based on preliminary estimates, we can expect to see a new one about every six days. Artemis is working to track and analyze any patterns; we believe it will make predicting their attacks in the future much more precise. Of course, this would be easiest with Mercury’s help but, given the circumstances…”

‘Given the circumstances’ was code for ‘Mamoru had flat refused to allow them to awaken any of the other Senshi, and Luna was sick of arguing with him about it.’ Of course, that didn’t mean either of the cats were particularly pleased with this decision, but they’d stopped trying to convince him that he needed backup after the day at the TV studio when he’d identified and defeated a Cardian before any of the Senshi had even set foot in the building.

Honestly, this had been mostly luck – a case of right place, right time – but that wasn’t information that he had felt was relevant when making his case. In his last life, he hadn’t _needed_ to know when the enemy would strike – he’d always been able to follow the pull of Sailor Moon, that insistent thread that told him the center of his world needed him. He’d never been able to prevent a Youma attack, but he’d never failed to arrive in time to whisk Usagi out of harm’s way at the last second, either. Now, however…

* * *

It had felt almost like a headache, an ominous and dull discomfort in the back of his skull. It hadn’t come on quickly, the way Sailor Moon’s unconscious pleas for aid always had. No, this had been a feeling like he’d slept badly, but he hadn’t noticed until halfway through the day. A creeping ache that he had nearly written off as Usagi-withdrawal, until it hadn’t faded when he’d heard her animated voice drifting down the street, chattering about some pending television audition.

His feet had slowed and then stopped walking without his conscious assent as he’d listened to the sound of her coming closer. She wasn’t exactly quiet; ever since the first time she’d hit him on the head, he’d always known when she was nearby. It seemed incredible now that he’d needed the jolt of his past-life memories to realize that maybe the fact that he had never made the slightest effort to get out of her way meant something.

“Heyy, Odango Atama,” he’d called with a cheeky grin when she had turned the corner and entered his field of vision.

She’d frozen momentarily before putting her hands on her hips and raising her chin to the sky. “Excuse me, I have more important things to do than waste my time with you today, Mamoru-baka,” she had informed him. “And my name is Usagi. U-sa-gi!” Osaka Naru, who had been walking with Usagi, giggled into her hand. “It’s not _funny_ , Naru-chan!!” Usagi had whined as Mamoru closed the rest of the distance between them, digging his hands into his pockets.

“So, what’s this I hear about a TV audition?” he’d asked, and Usagi had _glared_.

“You don’t have to say it!!” she’d snapped. “‘I’m too stupid to memorize my lines and I eat so much that I’m too fat to be on TV.’ There, I saved you some time. Now can you _please_ go away?!”

As she’d spat the venom that she’d come to expect from him, Mamoru’s face had frozen somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. He tried very hard not to think about all the immature things that he had blurted out to her in the past, but clearly Usagi had no such compunctions. And he _had_ called her fat. And lazy. And stupid. Multiple times, in multiple lives.

He kind of hated himself just remembering it; it was no wonder that _she_ hated him.

He’d reached up and cupped his face in his palm, mostly to hide the regret in his eyes. “Usagi-san, I-” He’d begun, but when he lowered his hand, he found that she had already grabbed her friend’s elbow and was tugging her down the street to get away from him.

_Nice going, Chiba._

He’d resumed his walk to work with a resigned sigh, and felt progressively more and more like a stalker as he’d realized his route was tailing the two teens. Apparently, the aforementioned audition was at TV Ashita, and, even though his shift as a P.A. would start in twenty minutes and he’d had a very good reason to be going in the same direction, he couldn’t help but worry what Usagi might think if she looked back and saw him. But she didn’t.

When they’d finally arrived at the studio, he’d swallowed hard as he watched the girls approach the visitor’s entrance and then headed around back to go in through the staff door. _Would Usagi have ever even **liked** him if it wasn’t for their first life? _

It had been then, as he unlocked the back door with his keycard and entered the studio, that he’d exhaled, realizing the persistent throb in his head was still there – was getting worse, now. _This odd feeling wasn’t about Usagi._ He’d realized _. Something was wrong._

After more than a year’s worth of practice sneaking in and out of jewelry stores and carefully timing his dramatic entrances to his best advantage, he’d developed a knack for slipping through potentially dangerous situations without drawing attention to himself. Fortunately, these skills were as accessible to Chiba Mamoru as they were to Tuxedo Mask, and so he’d crept through the halls of the studio unnoticed. However, as he’d stolen along the corridors, his sense of foreboding had only grown – _Where exactly **was** everyone?_

His question had been answered when he’d opened the door to a conference room and found at least a dozen execs and studio staff, all limp from energy loss, all unconscious. Heart leaping to his throat, he’d found himself sprinting back down the hallway before it even occurred to him to transform. His only comfort, in that moment, had been that he didn’t feel the soul-wrenching sensation that signaled that Usagi was in trouble. She may have been in the building, but whatever had gotten those people hadn’t gotten to her. _Not yet, anyway_.

Moments later, Tuxedo Mask had skidded to a halt. Though there was no sign of Usagi, he sensed a toxic purple aura seeping through the crack of a nearby doorway. He’d pushed the door the rest of the way open to reveal a room that was… full of oddly familiar iconography. He’d looked around, shell-shocked, as he stepped into a simulacrum of the world where a version of himself had once breathed his last breath.

His eyes had traced the lines of the Ionic columns and he’d looked around, his jaw slightly slack. _This was just supposed to be an easy job to help cover the cost of textbooks and maybe earn him a little extra spending money_. _Who the hell had decided to recreate the ruins of the Silver Millennium **here**?_ He even thought that he heard the faint lilt of a flute echoing out over the wreckage.

After a moment of gaping, the stillness had been split by a growl from above – “Minotauron!” – and he’d snapped back to attention. He’d looked up, seeing a shadowy feminine form with prominent horns standing atop one of the collapsed structures. _Damnit._

When he’d fought the plant-monster that had attacked Osaka Naru, he hadn’t yet admitted to himself that any of this was real. This time, he’d conjured a rose to his hand the moment he saw the horned beast. This time, he understood the consequences if he failed.

The first rose had gone wide – hurtling into the starry abyss – and he gritted his teeth, pulling a second rose from the air. _Could he defeat this thing without Endymion’s sword?_

She’d jumped to the ground, her ox-horns suddenly doubling, tripling in length. Tuxedo Mask had jolted out of the way barely in time. The appendages had smashed into the crumbling edifice behind him. He’d watched in horror as energy rocketed from her body, shaking apart the marble where the prongs of her horns had been embedded only seconds before.

He’d swallowed hard, diving away in the hopes of getting behind her, before finally launching the second rose at her chest.

“Mi-NO!” she’d screamed in response. She’d pawed a hand at the rose he’d embedded just below her collarbone, quickly knocking it loose. The crumpled bloom had fallen to the ground, leaving a faint trail of blood in its wake, and Minotauron crushed it with a heavy foot. She’d turned then, scraping the ground one foot at a time, and he’d realized she was preparing to charge him. _There was no help for it._

Endymion’s sword had materialized before he had time to blink. The metal handle felt natural between his fingers, as though it had been forged for his hand – and it had been – but the oily taint of Metallia’s evil lingered. He already knew, no matter how many times he had to wield this weapon, that touching it would never be comfortable again.

When Minotauron lunged for him, his strike had lacked precision – but a wide swipe with a broad sword covers a lot of space. As she’d charged, the blade had connected with the flesh of her waist, and he’d dragged it through with a sickening squelch, cleaving her legs from her torso.

The bull-like creature had shrieked her name one final time as the severed halves of her body collapsed, twitching, to the rocky, cratered terrain. Her limbs had disintegrated, just as the plant-creature’s had, leaving behind nothing but a small rectangle of paper, barely larger than a playing card.

“So, you are the one who keeps destroying my Cardians.” A voice had rung out across the celestial landscape as the colorful illustration on the card dimmed to a flat black. Mamoru had swiveled his mask-covered gaze to the skyline to find a green-skinned young man, his arms crossed and his expression sour.

“And you are the one who keeps attacking people who deserve better.” He’d retorted, then blinked. _Was that a Haiku?_ He had forgotten that he had a tendency to speak in Haiku when he was transformed. He was also clearly a bit rusty, if the quality of that particular poem was any indication.

“Don’t think you’ll get away with this!” the mysterious man had snapped before vanishing, his figure shimmering away into the starlight. A moment passed, and then the night sky had faded away as well, leaving nothing behind of the Silver Millennium – just a soundstage and a living room set.

Mamoru had exhaled before leaving the room and making his way back down the hall. He didn’t have a chance to check on the collapsed people from the meeting room – before he got even halfway there, the normal hustle and bustle of the studio had started back up, and he had ducked into a dressing room to drop his transformation. Emerging in a brown leather jacket and jeans, he’d narrowly avoided bumping into a small cluster of teenaged girls who stood chatting in the corridor.

It had been the first time he’d seen Mizuno Ami, Hino Rei, Kino Makoto, and Aino Minako in the same place since he’d nearly reawakened the Great Monster and killed them all. Not even a flicker of recognition had come from any of them, though Usagi immediately made a face at him.

“Usagi-chan, you can have my place in the audition,” Mizuno Ami had been saying as Aino Minako and Kino Makoto waved and headed into the next room. “I really don’t have the time to be on a TV show anyways, I need to focus on my studies.”

“You didn’t even get offered an audition??” Mamoru had blurted out. _He’d nearly had a heart attack thinking she was in danger, and she’d had no reason to be in the building in the first place?!_

Twin spots of pink had appeared on Usagi’s cheeks and she’d stamped her foot. “Shut UP, Mamoru-baka! What are you even doing here, do you just follow me around hoping I’ll embarrass myself?! You really should get a life.”

“I work here, Odango Atama,” he’d retorted, voice flat. “So maybe you don’t want to audition, unless you want to see a whole lot more of me.”

Usagi had gone pale at his words, and Rei had begun to giggle.

“Odango Atama, what a great nickname for her,” she’d agreed, then held out her hand to Mamoru. “I’m Hino Rei, I was offered an audition for the role of Shatori Mikan’s younger sister.” 

Mamoru had stared at her hand for a moment, then, without taking it, said: “I’m not in casting, Hino-san. I’m a production assistant.” There had then been an awkward beat before Rei had lowered her hand, looking a bit hurt.

Chiba Mamoru was no stranger to regrets. There were few things in his life that he wouldn’t change, if given the chance. But, if he had to pick just one thing that he regretted – besides the abuse he kept hurling at Usagi – it would be his odd relationship with Rei in their last life. The idea that she had liked him had been flattering, and he’d enjoyed having company besides Motoki, but he’d never gone out of his way to spend time with her. Now that he understood why she couldn’t hold his attention, his past actions seemed inordinately cruel.

“You’re a production assistant?? Ooo, I’m going to get this part and then you’re gonna _have_ to be nice to me!” Usagi had declared, her face taking on an expression of determination that was normally reserved for right before she moon-dusted a Youma.

“You’ll have to beat _me_ , Odango-brains,” Rei had countered, her eyes taking on their trademark fire as she put her hands on her hips. “And I don’t intend to lose.”

The two girls had begun to bicker, and Ami had shook her head and sighed. “Good luck, Usagi-chan,” she’d called as she began to walk back down the corridor towards the front entrance.

In response, Usagi had immediately pivoted her attention from the argument and waved brightly at her retreating friend. “Bye, Ami-chan! I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

Rei had rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in response before following Makoto and Minako into the soundstage. Mamoru, meanwhile, saw his chance.

“Um… Usa-”

“Tsukino-san, what are _you_ doing here?” He’d clenched his teeth and his fists and shot a glare down the hallway. A redheaded girl, about Usagi’s age, had just emerged from a nearby doorway and was tilting her head at Usagi quizzically. Then, she’d turned to look at Mamoru, and her entire face had lit up in a way that he really wasn’t pleased with. “Ooo, and who is your handsome friend??” she’d asked, reaching out to hug Mamoru’s arm to her chest. “Hi there, I’m Ginga Natsumi, but you can call me Natsumi-chan.”

Usagi, in response, had mimed vomiting as Mamoru had taken a large step away from this new person and rolled his shoulders back, trying to keep his arms out of her reach. “Mamoru-baka is not my _friend_ , he’s a pain in my neck,” Usagi had said, crossing her arms. “And I’m here for the Shatori Mikan audition. Why are _you_ here?”

“Oh, uh, me too!” Ginga Natsumi had declared, in a manner that clearly suggested she had never heard of such a thing before.

“Usagi-san,” At the sound of her given name, Usagi’s head had jerked around to stare at him in obvious confusion. “Shouldn’t you head in, before you miss your audition?”

“Oh my gooooood you’re right, I’m going to miss it!!!” Usagi had wailed, grabbing Natsumi and dragging her through the doorway where the other girls had disappeared at least five minutes prior.

“Bye, Mamoru-kun!!” Natsumi had trilled with a flirtatious wave, and Mamoru had buried his forehead in his palms with a slow exhale. _If there was a chance that Ginga Natsumi would be hanging around TV Ashita in the long-term, it might be time for him to start looking for a different part-time job._

* * *

“You know, Mamoru-san,” Luna said, her tone suggesting they were about to rehash an old argument. “If we reawakened the other Senshi, things like tonight might not happen. Usagi-chan would have had Sailor Jupiter there to protect her.”

His brow creased and his lips drew into a familiar frown. “We are _not_ reawakening any of the Senshi. I got there in time,” he said. “And you know that Usagi didn’t want her friends fighting.”

Luna sighed. “She wouldn’t want _you_ fighting, either,” she pointed out, and it was Mamoru’s turn to shrug. “And you can’t be everywhere at once. What happens when you’re not there, hmm? Five guardians is a lot safer than just one.”

He shook his head. “We’re not having this conversation,” he muttered. “I woke up. They didn’t. That tells us everything you need to know about what Usagi wants.”

The cat released a long-suffering sigh and her tail twitched slightly. “If you say so, I suppose. I believe that’s the majority of my business this evening, unless you have other details to report.”

Mamoru rapped his fingers against the table before shaking his head. “Nothing specific,” he said. “Same time tomorrow?” Luna nodded and hopped down from the table, disappearing into the shadows of the Crown. Mamoru sat at the table for another few moments before finally sliding out of the booth.

As Mamoru locked up, he reflected on the last few weeks, and on his most recent conversation with his new feline advisor. Luna was wrong about a lot of things, but on one topic, she did have a point: If Tsukino Usagi was going to insist on getting herself into trouble, someone would need to be there to bail her out.

Now he just had to find some way to convince her that she wanted to be his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve probably already figured this out, but this story will more-or-less follow the events of Makaiju, though obviously I’m taking some liberties. As we get further and further into this divergent universe, we’ll also get more original content and less reinterpretation of what happened in the actual episodes. 
> 
> I hope you liked this; if you did, please drop me a review to let me know?


	3. Mamoru's Crisis: Usagi Has a Date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I am so grateful to FloraOne for inspiring this story, and for being such an awesome, supportive Beta (no hyperbole, Flora's feedback made this chapter about 500% better).
> 
> Thank you also to all of you - I'm unbelievably excited that there are people still with me for chapter three?! I'm so thankful to every person who has commented, favorited, followed, reblogged, or given me kudos - it's like the best little hit of dopamine and I grin like an idiot every time I get a notification.
> 
> I'm so glad you're enjoying this so far, and I hope you like my take on the V.R. episode!

Mamoru dug his hands into his pockets and suppressed the urge to groan. When Luna and Artemis had suggested he spend his morning honing his reflexes at the new Virtual Reality theater, he hadn't thought he'd need to bring a book with him. But, it turned out he was far from the only person in Tokyo who'd decided that this Sunday morning was a good time to check out the new attraction, and now he was stuck in a line. A long line. In fact, he stood just a few paces beyond a sign that proudly proclaimed "Wait Time: 60 Minutes."

By his calculations, his proximity to the sign meant that his own wait time was probably still at least fifty-five minutes, but the line beyond the checkpoint had grown enough that leaving and coming back would be utterly counterproductive. Maybe a fifty-five-minute wait wouldn't be so bad if he had someone to wait with, but…

He consciously pivoted from these uncomfortable thoughts. _This had been_ _ **his**_ _choice_. When she'd offered, he'd unequivocally refused to allow Luna to accompany him – the very _last_ thing he needed was for Usagi to show up and think he was trying to abduct her cat – and, as always, Motoki was busy managing the Sunday morning rush at the Crown. So, he was going to the V.R. Arcade by himself, and that was fine. He wasn't worrying at all about the fact that everyone in a twenty-foot radius of himself appeared to be here with a date. Nope.

He exhaled, not believing his own lie. If he could, he'd want to be here with Usagi.

He also knew that, even if he'd asked her, she would never have agreed to come with him. She'd told him so, multiple times.

Most recently, it had been that time at Crown when he'd told her that if she kept ordering milkshakes like that she'd quickly become as round as her hairbuns, and she'd haughtily informed him that "I can't wait for you to leave for college and stop hanging around the arcade all the time."

"Too bad for you, Odango, I start at Keio next month. I'll still be here allll the time," he'd drawled with a smirk.

She'd made a face at him in response. "How'd you even get into Keio? No personality component to the application?"

"I studied hard," he replied coolly. "I realize that's not an idea that you're terribly familiar with. It involves books and pens and taking notes."

"And sitting alone at an arcade counter 24/7 because you have no friends?"

His lips had tightened slightly in response, not willing to let her know she'd landed a hit. "I'm friends with Motoki. That's why I study here, Odango Atama."

She'd snickered, crossing her arms on the counter. "Bothering somebody at work is not the same thing as being friends with them, not that you would know. Though personally, I wouldn't hang out with you even if you paid me."

This had been before he'd remembered, and he'd scoffed at the idea that she thought for even a second that he'd have any interest in spending time with her. _How the tables turned._

"The only thing I'd pay _you_ to do is to stay away from me. Imagine, a whole week without being hit in the head or hearing you wail about someone beating your Sailor V high score. Ah, bliss. Tell me, what's your going rate?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I don't even get why Motoki-onii-san is friends with you, he's so nice and you're so awful."

"I would ask the same thing about you but, as you said, bothering somebody at work isn't the same thing as being friends with them."

Her lower lip had wobbled slightly, and he knew instantly he'd gone too far. "Hey, Odango, I just meant…"

Wrapped up in his regrets, he nearly jumped out of his skin when fingers suddenly folded over his right shoulder, jerking him back to the present.

"Mamoru-kun!" cooed a voice that sent an uncomfortable jolt rocketing down his spine. He looked up into the almond-shaped eyes of Ginga Natsumi, who was positively radiating joy from her spot next to him in the line.

"Oh. Good morning, Ginga-san."

"Ah! Mamoru-kun, I told you to call me Natsumi-chan!" she chided with a big bright smile and a gentle smack to his shoulder.

"Right," he said, still not using the requested informal form of address. There was a little pause, and she blinked up at him expectantly. He blinked right back and, after a moment, Natsumi continued.

"So, my brother and I have VIP passes for the arcade," she told him, idly tugging on a lock of her hair. "And we get to skip the line… Do you want to come in with us? Be my date?"

Mamoru paused for a moment, considering. Skipping the line and saving fifty minutes was tempting, and he would get in just as much practice if he went in alone as he would if he went in with Ginga Natsumi. On the other hand, even _he_ could tell that Ginga Natsumi had a crush on him, and he never wanted to repeat his past mistake of heedlessly encouraging feelings he wasn't capable of returning.

"That's very nice of you, Ginga-san-" he began, but he was interrupted by a voice he would recognize across galaxies.

"Oh my god, Mamoru-baka?! What are _you_ doing here?" He turned to look at Usagi, and his face fell the second he realized that she was holding onto the arm of that puffed-up self-important half-wit of a middle school student from the other day. "You do realize that this is an interactive game, right? You can't sit at the counter and study like a loser at _this_ arcade."

"Actually, I'm here with Natsumi-san." The words were out before his brain caught up with his mouth, and as soon as he said them, he wanted to take them back.

Natsumi's eyes lit up, however, and he knew there was no way he was getting out of this now. _What was it about Usagi that so completely obliterated his hard-won ability to_ _ **think**_ _before he spoke?_

"Natsumi?" Seijuro said, glaring at the redheaded girl who Mamoru had just accidentally agreed to go on a date with.

"As friends!" he backpedaled, holding up his hands in protest, but it sounded lame even to his own ears. From the looks on Usagi and Seijuro's faces, neither of them believed for a second that his interest in Natsumi was strictly platonic. _I should have let Luna come along, explaining that to Usagi would have been less humiliating than this._

Natsumi, meanwhile, put her hands on her hips. "What about you and Tsukino-san?" she asked, her voice oddly like a toddler who'd just been denied a cookie.

Seijuro smug-facedly wrapped his arm around Usagi's waist; Mamoru wanted to rip the offending limb off. "Oh, yes. We're just here as 'friends,' too."

Natsumi sniffed, and Mamoru couldn't help but throw her a quizzical look. Considering how invested she'd been in getting him to go out with her, she seemed usually concerned about what 'Seijuro-kun' was up to.

"Anyway," Mamoru muttered, digging his hands into his pockets again. "We need to go meet up with Natsumi-san's brother so that we can go into the arcade."

Usagi shot Mamoru her absolute most withering look, the one she usually reserved for when he'd just said something insulting about her ability to be ladylike. "Jeeze, Mamoru-baka, do you have brain damage or something?"

He snorted, arching an eyebrow at her. "You tell me, you're the one who keeps hitting me in the head with your shoes." But then he noticed Natsumi and Seijuro were also giving him strange looks, and he frowned. "What?"

_Natsumi really should have mentioned her brother's name_ , Mamoru groused internally as he walked to the front of the line next to Usagi and Seijuro, Natsumi clutching tight to his arm.

When he'd wished earlier that he could be here with Usagi, being on the wrong side of a double-date was far, far from what he'd had in mind. _How did he get himself into these situations?_

The arcade employee manning the front entrance unhooked the velvet rope and bowed to their VIP guests as the other patrons grumbled about them skipping the line. Seijuro threw a smirk over his shoulder at those still waiting, putting his hand against the dip of Usagi's back as they stepped inside.

As they made their way down the dimly lit corridor, Mamoru's skin began to prickle. He was walking only a few feet behind Usagi and Seijuro, and he couldn't help the way his eyes kept flicking to Seijuro's hand, still pressed into the small of Usagi's back. The urge to pull the arrogant teen off of her and punch him in the face was becoming almost unbearable; refraining was taking his entire focus, and his muscles tensed in response.

It may have all been a little more tolerable if he'd been permitted to fume in peace, but Natsumi would not stop _talking_ – with each step, she made a new attempt to draw him into a conversation, even though it must have been obvious that he wasn't in the mood.

The hallway was short, but they didn't even make it halfway down before Usagi let out an exasperated huff and stopped, causing Seijuro to stop dead with a look of surprise. "Natsumi-san, you're wasting your time," Usagi said, crossing her arms and shooting Mamoru a 'what-are-you-even-doing-here?' expression. "Mamoru-baka only has three solid conversation topics: coffee, obscure books that nobody but him has actually bothered to read, and insults."

"Oh, I like coffee, too!" Natsumi said, her eyes lighting up. "Mamoru-kun, do you want to go and get a cup together after we're done here at the arcade?"

"Uh-" Mamoru gawked after Usagi, bewildered, but she had already hooked her arm with Seijuro's and resumed her journey down the hallway, away from him.

He exhaled and looked down at Natsumi's expectant face. "I have plans after this," he muttered, trudging after Usagi and Seijuro.

_This was, without a doubt, the worst day ever._

Soon, their hapless little group entered an undersized amphitheater dotted with squat green pods. A small crowd of people were already in the room, chatting among themselves.

As Seijuro opened a pod door and climbed inside, Mamoru reached out and grasped Usagi's small shoulder.

"Usagi-san, can I-" he began, but the expression on her face when she turned to him was hurt and standoffish.

"Mamoru-baka. I'm on a date with a guy who actually likes me. Can't you pretend to be a normal human being for just one day and try to have fun with Natsumi-san instead of trying to ruin it?" she hissed.

For a split-second, he went completely numb, and his fingers slackened their hold. _That's not..._

But Usagi shook him off and climbed into the pod after Seijuro, leaving Mamoru shell-shocked and holding the empty air where she'd been standing moments before. A part of him _did_ want to ruin her date – he couldn't deny that – but not for the reasons she thought. Then again, he had a terrible track record when it came to commenting on Usagi's love life; she had no reason not to assume the worst of him.

His exhale was sharp as he remembered the time, just before Valentine's, when he'd caught Usagi not-at-all discretely fishing for information about what kind of chocolates Motoki liked. He'd reacted predictably.

"You think Motoki wants Valentine's chocolates from _you,_ Odango Atama?" At the time, he'd thought he was being protective of his friend, saving him the trouble of having to let Usagi down gently.

She'd stamped her foot in response. "And why wouldn't he?! Motoki-onii-san thinks I'm wonderful, he tells me so all the time."

"Sure, sure. And Motoki definitely wants to go to all the trouble of finding the perfect White Day return gift that says 'Hey, I like making you milkshakes and all, but I actually have a girlfriend.'" He'd told himself that telling Usagi that Motoki was spoken for was really the kinder option. It would let her move on instead of pining after him forever.

She'd visibly deflated. "Motoki-onii-san has a girlfriend?" Her voice had been small, and he'd snorted into his coffee.

"Yes, Motoki has a girlfriend. And even if he didn't, do you really think Motoki would go out with a fourteen-year-old? Find a guy your own age, Odango Atama."

And now, she had gone and done just that.

His nails dug into his palm as he slid into a different pod, next to Natsumi. If he could go back and smack his past self for ever having put that idiotic idea in Usagi's head, he would do it in a heartbeat. _Stupid, jealous idiot, too stupid to even realize that he_ _ **was**_ _jealous..._

Mamoru stewed in his seat as the arcade ride simulated taking them on a journey into space. At one point, he thought he heard Natsumi giggling behind her hand, but he ignored her. After all, this whole situation was her fault.

He exhaled and ruffled a hand through his hair. Maybe that wasn't fair. It was true that Natsumi had asked him on the most uncomfortable date ever, but he was the one who had stupidly agreed to it. True, he hadn't known what he was agreeing to, but she hadn't known what she was asking of him, either.

As the large projection screen in front of the pods began explaining the 'mission' to the 'recruits' in the theater, Mamoru leaned over slightly. "Natsumi-san?"

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed with excitement. "Yeah, Mamoru-kun?"

He swallowed before saying "I haven't… been entirely fair to you. I haven't told you… there's already someone that I like. I think you're a great girl and all, but friendship is really all I have to offer you."

Natsumi smiled at him. "That's okay!" she said, and he blinked. _Not exactly the reaction I was expecting._

"It is?"

"Yeah! I mean, it's okay if you don't like me like that right _now_. You think I'm a great girl, so those feelings will just take some time to develop, right?"

His mouth pulled into a frown. "No, Natsumi-san, you misunderstand me. I'm in love with her. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you need to know that that's not going to change."

Natsumi pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well if she's so great, why are you here with _me_ , then? Shouldn't you be off somewhere with _her_?"

He froze, stung. He couldn't exactly explain that the girl in question was currently only one car over from them and hated him with a burning passion – not without the day becoming somehow even more unbearably awkward.

Instead, he shrugged a shoulder. "We're here as friends, right? I could always use new friends."

She sucked her teeth in response before sighing. "Okay. Friends, then."

At that moment, the lights in the theater came back up, and a pleasant female voice over the loudspeakers announced "Welcome, new recruits. Please exit your spaceships and proceed to the right. You will collect your equipment for the mission in the next room." As she spoke, a series of doors slid open along the right-hand wall. Mamoru blew out a breath, glad he'd been saved from navigating the fraught conversation further.

As Mamoru eased out of the pod, reaching down to give Natsumi a hand up, he suddenly noticed that Usagi had been pulled off to the side of the room. She was speaking with a middle-aged gentleman in glasses while a tide of other people milled around them and into the next part of the game.

He furrowed his brow and moved in their general direction, inadvertently abandoning Natsumi. However, he didn't even have to get close before he figured out what was happening – Usagi's indoor voice was the same as her outdoor voice, after all.

"Papa, it's fine!" she was saying as the man shot a skeptical look at Seijuro. "Seijuro-kun is a friend from school. We're just here to play the game like you and Shingo are."

_This was Usagi's_ _ **father**_ , a part of him noted with apprehension.

The rest of him, however, was boiling from watching the way Usagi's father side-eyed Seijuro. And it was only made worse by the fact that he couldn't even object – after all, _Seijuro_ was the one on the date with Usagi. _Seijuro_ was the one who got to meet her father. Chiba Mamoru was just some guy who picked on her at Crown.

He wasn't able to make out the man's response, but a moment later Usagi had waved goodbye to her father and grabbed Seijuro's arm yet again, tugging him through one of the open doors. Mercifully, her father chose to go through a different door, disappearing from view in another swell of people. Mamoru exhaled heavily and dug his hands into his pockets, following after Usagi.

Soon after entering the room, Usagi, Seijuro, Natsumi, and Mamoru had all secured their loose articles in lockers and suited up in visors, vests, and arm and leg protectors. Usagi giggled as she mimed firing her laser gun, complete with silly sound effects, and Seijuro smiled indulgently at her while Natsumi scowled.

They received their first glimpse of the main playing grounds when the next door slid open, and the four of them cautiously entered the labyrinthine structure of the virtual reality course.

Usagi shrieked when the first holographic monster popped up, clinging to Seijuro's shoulder. On reflex, Mamoru shot at the target, and it faded away. Seijuro chuckled, carefully prying Usagi off of him, and she giggled sheepishly. Throat tight, Mamoru turned his head to look for anything else he could shoot at.

They made their way along the path, various virtual enemies popping up at random. The further they got, the more and more frequently the targets seemed to appear.

At first, Mamoru was shooting mostly on reflex - after all, that was what he'd come here to do. But when he noticed Seijuro and Usagi were inching closer together, he began to focus his attention more and more deliberately on making sure he shot down each new hologram the second it appeared, before anyone else had a chance.

He was lining up his next shot when an odd prickling feeling began to run along his spine. The feeling was similar to the sensation that he'd felt before the last few Cardian attacks, and he idly pondered if it was this awareness or his natural reflexes that was helping him take out hologram after hologram. _At least_ _ **this**_ _is something I know how to do right._ The point counter on his vest slowly ticked up, and he wondered if Usagi would be impressed if he managed to get top score.

He took careful aim at a new mark, but it disappeared before he could even tighten his finger on the trigger of his gun. His jaw tensed, and he turned to glare at the redheaded boy who had eliminated the target first.

Seijuro's smirk was cocky, and the younger boy raised an eyebrow at him in clear challenge.

Something primal swept over Mamoru, an urge to conquer that he'd only felt before when facing Cardians. His lips pulled back into a slight snarl as a dozen new enemies popped up around them, and his shooting took on a tinge of mania. He realized that Seijuro was mimicking his frenzy, and it instantly became a free-for-all. For each monster that Seijuro eliminated, Mamoru tried to take out two. _He had to beat this guy. He_ _ **had**_ _to._

He was so intent on his task that he barely registered Usagi's frustrated voice: "I can't even hit _one!_ "

Natsumi giggled spitefully – her own score counter read 2,400. "Well gee, Tsukino-san, that's such a shame. I suppose those of us who are good at this game do need someone here to cheer us on, though."

Seijuro shot his sister a reproachful look and stepped up next to Usagi. "Usagi-chan, can I show you how to do it?" he offered, and Usagi nodded up at him with big hearts in her eyes.

Mamoru swallowed his envy and again focused his attention on shooting down the virtual monsters. Even so, he couldn't help but watch as Seijuro slid one hand along Usagi's arm and cupped her hip with the other. Mamoru forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, but his hand still trembled; he was now outright missing every fourth target or so.

"I got one!" Usagi squealed, bouncing on her toes as a hologram blinked out of existence. Despite the fact that she'd achieved her goal, Seijuro made no effort to move away from her.

Natsumi crossed her arms with a little _hmph_. "Mamoru-kun," she said after a moment. "You're so good at this, can you maybe give me some pointers?"

He shook his head, clenching his jaw. "You're doing fine, Natsumi-san."

"Whatever," she huffed, turning her attention to her brother. "Will _you_ help me?"

Seijuro looked exasperated, but finally, finally stepped away from Usagi. "Yeah, okay, what do you need?"

As Seijuro moved over to his sister, Usagi looked a little crestfallen. She poked the ground with the toe of her purple sneaker before turning around – directly into the massive snarling jaws of the dragon that had just appeared behind her. With a wail, she jumped three feet into the air before turning tail and running the opposite direction of their little group, into the heart of the maze.

"Usagi, wait! You'll get lost in there!" Mamoru dashed after her, with no thought to Seijuro or Natsumi or the fact that he was forfeiting any chance of ever getting top score.

He was out of breath by the time he found her sitting in a corner of the arena.

Half-hidden between a pillar and the wall, her ankles were crossed and she hugged her knees to her chest. She looked utterly crushed - her chin turned down, her eyes staring at the ground - and his heart seized in his chest. He would give up anything to make her smile again.

"Usagi?" His voice was quiet, not wanting to startle her. As he got closer to her, he couldn't help his involuntary gulp. _She was wearing such a short skirt._

She didn't even look up as he approached, instead biting the inside of her cheek."I suppose you're here to tell me what a crybaby I am, that I got scared of a virtual reality game."

He flinched. "I don't think that." It almost killed him that she believed he did.

"Yeah, sure you don't."

He exhaled and bent at the waist, gingerly claiming the spot between Usagi and the pillar. Crossing his legs casually, he leaned his head back against the wall. "You know, Usagi-san, there's nothing wrong with being scared sometimes. What matters is whether you let it get in the way of your life."

"Easy for you to say," she huffed, jerking her chin so she faced away from him. "You're not scared of anything."

This was patently false – he was scared of _so many_ things. Her getting hurt. Her falling in love with that douchebag. Her being forced back into a life she didn't want and would never choose. Of course, he couldn't exactly _tell_ her any of these. But, he did have one fear that wouldn't totally freak her out if it was shared.

He leaned close to her, dropping his voice and speaking into the shell of her ear like he was sharing a secret. "Promise not to tell anyone?" he asked, and smirked when she whipped her head around to stare at him, her eyes startled and so, so blue.

After a moment of fruitlessly waiting for her to answer, he pressed on. "The last time I got my flu shot, the doctor had to bring in two nurses to make me hold still. I'm terrified of needles; even the sight of a syringe makes me panic a little bit."

She blinked, then snorted. "Don't you want to be a doctor?"

He grinned at her, unable to suppress a flutter of delight. _She remembered something about me._ "I do," he said. "That's how I know it's not getting scared that matters, it's what you do afterwards."

For once it was Usagi's turn to smirk. "Who would have thought; the illustrious future Doctor Chiba, afraid of a little old shot?"

He failed to school his expression into anything remotely stern as he wagged a finger at her. "Now remember, you promised not to tell anyone."

She gasped in mock-horror. "I did not! And I'm going to tell _everyone_ I know, and you can't stop me." She ended by scrunching her face and sticking out her tongue at him, and he couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. _She was too damn cute sometimes._

Once he got himself back under control, still chuckling a little, he looked up to find Usagi actually grinning at him. Usagi. Grinning at him.

"You know…" she said after a moment. "I suppose you're not the worst person in the world, Chiba."

His stomach did a little flip. _Not Mamoru-baka?_ "Maybe second worst?" he offered a little breathlessly. He knew she couldn't remember the last time she'd said that to him, but his heart still pounded thinking of it.

"Third, even," she agreed, leaning over and nudging him gently.

His mouth went dry at the feel of her small shoulder against his. After a moment, he cleared his throat and opened parched lips. "Hey, uh… You think you're ready to go back?" _Say no,_ he prayed. _Say you want to spend the rest of the day with me._ But it was a stupid thing to wish for.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, rising to her feet and brushing her hands over that tiny red skirt. When she stood, her thighs crossed directly into his eyeline. He immediately jerked his face away, his ears on fire. _Keep it together, Chiba_.

Her hand dropped into his field of vision, jolting him from his unintended reverie, and he couldn't help but chuckle at himself as he took her soft palm in his.

"C'mon," she said, nodding her head back in the direction from which they'd come. "We should get you back to your date."

He opened his mouth to remind her that it wasn't a date, but he didn't have the chance. Instead, a panicky preteen boy with sandy brown hair rounded a corner and hollered "Usagi-baka!" the moment he saw them.

_Her brother,_ Mamoru realized. He vaguely remembered seeing the kid standing near Usagi's father when they'd been speaking earlier.

"Usagi, Papa's in trouble!" the kid was saying. "One of the monsters is real, it's attacking people! He sent me to get help!"

"Okay!" Usagi said, biting her lip before nodding her head decisively. "Well, let's go rescue him!"

"Usagi, you can't-" Mamoru started, but she shook her head at him.

"It's my Papa, I've gotta help!" she cried, grabbing her brother's hand and bolting.

Even with his enhanced Tuxedo Mask skills, Mamoru was no match for an impassioned Usagi at a full sprint – really, her brother was more being pulled along than running with her. _Damn it._ He fisted his hands into his hair with a groan before taking stock of his surroundings. _No security cameras, no one around._ He nodded firmly before darting around a corner to allow the transformation to wash over him, replacing Chiba Mamoru with Tuxedo Mask.

His head was in a vice as he began his race across the arcade, now clad in his superhero regalia. Twice, he stumbled as he _felt_ a blow land on Usagi. _Why hadn't she_ _ **listened**_ _to him?!_

He swooped into a high alcove above the main game room, not even caring about making a dramatic entrance, just trying to get his bearings. He heard her screams and his fingers snapped tight around Endymion's sword. Then he looked down on the scene, and his throat closed up.

A tall green insectoid had wrapped Usagi's body in long winding tentacles, and Usagi howled in pain as electricity pulsed from them and through her body. Tuxedo Mask froze as he took in this facsimile of his recurring nightmares, his single worst memory.

_Sailor Moon had screamed like that once before._

His fingers desperately clenched and unclenched on the handle of the sword, but he felt like someone had pressed a pillow to his face – his brain wasn't getting oxygen, and without it he couldn't move.

Suddenly, the blue-haired man from the TV studio appeared, floating down and landing behind the snarling monster. "Hell Ant, go easy on that one," he said, and in response the monster released Usagi from her grip.

Tuxedo Mask winced, expecting Usagi's limp body to hit the ground with a dull thud. Instead, he watched in quiet bewilderment as the alien man caught her falling form and gently lowered her to the floor. Bile rose in his throat as the stranger carefully arranged her limbs and tenderly stroked her hair.

The sight of Usagi's assailant violating her further was enough to revitalize him – again, Tuxedo Mask tightened his fist around the handle of the sword, and he dove into the fray.

No roses this time, no Haiku. There was no time for either.

As he pounced, he hacked at the Cardian's tentacles, severing the appendages that had hurt Usagi.

Hell Ant screeched her name, but then whipped a fresh new set of tentacles at him, these ones sprouting from her hips and back rather than from her head.

Startled, Tuxedo Mask leapt away, but one of her feelers had twined itself around his ankle. With a decisive chop, he freed his leg, glaring at the monster. She stood in the center of the room, arms folded, her expression as smug as the one Seijuro had worn earlier.

He inhaled sharply before conjuring a rose to his free hand. _Fine, we'll do it your way._

He targeted the jewel in the center of the monster's forehead, and his aim was true.

"Annnnnnnt!" roared the beast, clapping her hands to her face as the rose pierced her skin, and he took his opening.

He rushed forward, sliding his body along the smooth floor of the arena and slicing high. He removed the creature's leg at the thigh, and she crumpled to the ground with a bellow of agony.

As she screamed, he rose to his feet and slowly walked alongside the monster's collapsed form, holding tight to his sword. She glared up at him with angry red eyes, and he brought the blade down in a sharp, unhesitating strike.

The Cardian's severed head rolled along the arcade floor, stopping at the feet of the blue-haired man before it began melting away.

His eyes snapped up, taking in the mysterious foe who had conjured this monster, who had dared to put his hands on Usagi.

Tuxedo Mask's eyes narrowed behind his mask and he brandished his sword. "Unforgivable! How dare you attack her?! I will punish you!"

He heard a titter from behind him, and he swiveled his head slightly to find another green-skinned alien, this one pink-haired and apparently female, sitting up in the rafters. "Ooo, I don't know, Ail, he seems pret-ty serious," she said in a sing-song tone.

The blue-haired stranger – Ail – rolled his eyes before turning to glower at Tuxedo Mask. "Stop butting into things that don't concern you," he spat. "And Usagi _doesn't concern you._ "

Both green-skinned aliens disappeared in a blink, leaving Tuxedo Mask reeling and his involuntary rose lodged in the wall.

In an instant, Tuxedo Mask was in motion again, tearing towards his fallen love. Frantically, he ripped the gloves from his hands, letting Endymion's sword fall where it may. Dropping to his knees beside Usagi's prone body, he fumbled bare fingertips feather-light along her slender throat.

_Please be breathing. Please, please be breathing._

His clumsy fingers finally found the steady thrum of her pulse, and an ocean of tension ebbed from him. _She was alive._

"Hey," her groggy voice mumbled, and he narrowly choked down a sob of relief. Usagi muzzily blinked at him before reaching up and resting an unsteady hand on top of his. "Your eyes are blue."

He let out a broken laugh, shaking his head. _Of all the things..._ "Yes, they are, you little baka. Now, how do you keep getting in so much trouble?"

Her shoulders moved ever-so-slightly in the suggestion of a shrug. "Couldn't… leave the people I love… to fight alone…"

This time, he couldn't fully suppress his sob as he took her tiny, precious hand in his and gave it the gentlest squeeze. "You should try thinking about yourself for once," he said, and she let out a little grunt of disagreement.

"Why…? You don't."

He could have easily created a Powerpoint presentation that explained just how much more important Tsukino Usagi's safety was than his own, but this was not the time. He could hear the faint sound of sirens and the drone of voices coming closer to their section of the theater; as a vigilante, he knew what that meant. He bit his lip and traced her cheekbone with his free hand.

"I have to go now, Usagi," he said. "But help will be here soon, okay?"

"Can you stay?" His heart squeezed in his chest as her fingers tightened on his.

"Not if you want me free to rescue you next time."

Her grip loosened on his fingers and she let out a weak half-laugh before she smiled at him. "Then, bye for now."

Sweeping his cape behind him, he rose to his feet. After a moment's pause to reclaim his forgotten weapon, he surveyed the room again. He took in the dazed and disoriented other civilians– Usagi's father and brother, an unnamed pair of teens on a date – before he leapt into the rafters of the theater. From there, it was child's play to traverse the arena unseen and find an abandoned alcove to change back into Chiba Mamoru.

By the time he reentered the main room, a mini triage unit had been set up in one corner. The victims of the Cardian's attack were seated in a cluster of folding chairs while emergency medical technicians fussed over them. Usagi was hooked to an I.V. drip, but she was sitting up and talking with her family members.

He let out a huge exhale of relief before sinking down into a chair near the impromptu medical center, dropping his head into his hands. _She's okay._ _Everything's okay,_ he repeated as a mantra until one of the medical technicians came up to him.

"Hi, were you affected by the equipment malfunction too?"

He shook his head, gesturing helplessly towards the odangoed blonde across the room. "My… friend was."

She nodded sympathetically, reaching down to pat his arm softly. "I understand," she said, then furtively glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "She has a mild concussion and is severely exhausted, but it's nothing a few day's rest can't cure." Mamoru blinked; sharing information about a patient's prognosis was prohibited under Japan's Act on the Protection of Personal Information, so why – "Don't worry, your girlfriend will be fine," she reassured him with a wink before he could ask, and Mamoru flushed.

"She's not my girlfriend," he muttered to his lap, but the paramedic was already heading back to the patients and didn't hear him.

Instead of worrying about that, he settled in to watch Usagi's condition from across the room. Color was returning to her cheeks, though she was clearly bruised and still lacked her trademark verve.

As he watched her, Seijuro unexpectedly emerged from a corner of the room and came over to join Usagi. He couldn't hear their conversation, but Usagi seemed to perk up when he got closer.

"Hi, Mamoru-kun!"

He whirled, clutching a hand to his chest, to find Ginga Natsumi in the seat next to him. "Holy- Natsumi-san, you startled me!"

"Sorry?" she said, batting her eyes at him, and he shook his head.

"Where have you been, anyway?"

"Oh, we got lost in the maze," she said with a little wave of her hand. "It looks like you've been busy."

He shrugged. "Not me. I got lost, too." He looked up to see Usagi smiling at Seijuro and pressed his lips together. He didn't particularly want to sit here and talk to Natsumi, but he wasn't leaving until Usagi did. No matter what else happened, no matter what that medical technician had said to him, he needed to know for sure that she was okay.

After a few minutes, the paramedic he'd spoken with earlier began discussing something with Usagi and her father. The woman shot a look over her shoulder at Mamoru, clearly puzzled. He stared impassively back. She then rolled her eyes and gestured with one hand for him to come join them.

Natsumi looked at Mamoru, then shrugged. "I guess they want us over there?" she said, standing and brushing off her skirt.

Mamoru didn't have to be told twice; he and Natsumi quickly made their way over to the makeshift medical center.

"Now don't worry," the paramedic was saying as she unhooked the I.V. from Usagi. "Your concussion is mild and actually _very_ treatable. You'll just need to make sure you get plenty of sleep and avoid doing any schoolwork for about a week."

Usagi's eyes lit up like she'd just been told her birthday had come early. "Wait, wait. A _doctor_ says I don't have to do my schoolwork?! And I get to _sleep as much as I want?_ " She turned to her father, her eyes sparkling. "Papa, did you hear what she _said?!"_

Usagi's father groaned and looked at the technician. "Are you really sure that's the best treatment?"

The woman laughed in response. "I'm afraid so. A concussion is a brain injury, so the best remedy is to let the brain rest as much as possible."

Usagi was bouncing in her chair. "No homeworkkkk," she hummed to herself. "And Mama has to let me sleep innnnn."

The paramedic chuckled, patting Usagi on the shoulder. "Now it's just for a week, but I'll make sure you get a note to give your teacher. You'll also want to make sure you eat a lot these next couple of days, it'll help you recover."

The look of pure bliss on Usagi's face made Mamoru bite his lip, trying to suppress a grin.

Usagi looked up and met his eye, and her serene expression faded slightly. "Are you okay?" she asked after a moment. "I haven't seen you since…"

He sank his hands into his pockets and raised his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. By the time I got out of the maze, it was all over."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." As she spoke, Seijuro draped his arm over Usagi's shoulders, and she looked up at her date a little bashfully.

"Can I take you home, Usagi-chan?" he offered.

She paused for a second, then gasped. "Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry! I didn't even think, but me getting hurt… I totally ruined our date, I'm so sorry, Seijuro-kun!"

Seijuro shook his head and laughed lightly. "It's fine, Usagi-chan. Maybe we can have a do-over another day. I just want to make sure you get home safe now."

Usagi's father abruptly cleared his throat, and Usagi looked first at her father, then at Seijuro. "I'm sorry, Seijuro-kun, but with everything that happened… I think I should go home with my Papa. But yeah, let's try again another day!"

Seijuro's face took on a miffed expression. "All right. Another time," Seijuro repeated, shooting his sister a hard look before the Gingas waved their goodbyes and left the arcade.

As the siblings left, Mamoru felt some of his muscles unclench for the first time in hours. He was drained from this excruciating, insufferable day. Keeping a girl at bay was more work than he'd ever realized, and watching Seijuro sweet-talk the love of his life had been exhausting. He'd even failed to protect Usagi, and that stung worse than all the rest of it. He was more than ready to go home and go straight to bed. Just write this day off as a miserable mistake, and plan to start over tomorrow.

He continued ruminating while Usagi's family clustered around her, gathering the last of their things and preparing to head home. Mamoru was getting ready to follow after them, at a respectable distance, when suddenly, Usagi looked back, the gold of her pigtails whipping behind her, and raised one hand.

"See you, Chiba!" she called with a little wave.

_Chiba._ Mamoru stared after her, dazed, long past when she'd disappeared from the arcade.

_Well. Maybe not the worst day ever, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am totally not a doctor, this is not medical advice. I had a mild concussion in college and was prescribed rest and avoiding anything mentally taxing for a few weeks, so I'm drawing on that for this story. Should you actually suffer a head injury, please, please go see a real doctor!


	4. It’s the Cherry Blossom Festival: Mamoru Protects Usagi!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story: so far, each new chapter has been about five pages longer than the previous one. Either I will get this under control and they will level out at some point, or the final chapter will be like, 50-something pages long. STAY TUNED, Y'ALL.
> 
> (On a related note, R is for Reverse is now officially the longest thing I've ever posted, woo-hoo!)
> 
> Thank you so, so much to FloraOne for Beta-ing this chapter, letting me repeatedly think out loud in her general direction, and reassuring me that Mamoru wasn’t too much of a neurotic, insecure mess here (I wrote this while I was studying for my Comprehensive Exams, the stress maaay have seeped through a little bit!!) 
> 
> And to all of you who are reading, reviewing, and/or reblogging my work – I really can never thank you enough! I love hearing your thoughts, and I'm so grateful that my little story is resonating with people!

"Motoki-onii-chan! Can I get a chocolate milkshake, please!" Usagi stood on one foot, the other swept out behind her dramatically as she leaned into the Crown counter.

From his seat on the stool next to her, the corner of Mamoru's mouth quirked ever-so-slightly. "Morning, Odango. You're up early."

She turned to him with a dramatic toss of her hair. "I have plans with my friends today, Mamoru-baka. You know, friends? The people who like you? You probably read about them in a book one time."

"At least I know _how_ to read." _Wait, that wasn't what he'd meant to say._ "Tell me, does having such a tiny brain make it easier to fit more food in your body? Or was it stuffing your body with so much junk food that stunted your brain development in the first place?"

His fingers tightened into a fist as his mouth continued to move without his consent. _What was happening to him?!_

She sniffed in irritation as Motoki threw Mamoru a warning look and set Usagi's shake down on the counter in front of her. She took a long sip from the red-and-white swirled straw, then pulled her mouth away with a little 'pop.'

"I'm surprised you would think that your brain is sooo much bigger than mine, seeing how you know nothing about fashion or normal human interactions. Or are you so arrogant and out-of-touch that you think you _do_ know those things?"

"I'd rather do well academically than waste my time worrying about clothes and classmates the way you do. Unless you actually enjoy constantly disappointing everyone in your life?"

He was horrified by the words as soon as they came out. Nothing could be further from the truth than the idea that Usagi was a _disappointment._

She froze, and he couldn't help but watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed.

"Go to hell, Mamoru-baka." Tears kissed the corners of her eyes as she blinked hard, and he held up his hands dumbly. _Wait._

He opened his mouth to explain, to apologize, but his trachea was stuffed full of cotton and no words could pass through.

Usagi ran from the counter, abandoning her shake in her need to flee him, and Seijuro appeared in the threshold of the Crown's sliding doors, his arms open wide.

Sobbing, Usagi threw herself into Seijuro's embrace. He held her tightly, one hand soothingly stroking the back of her head as he watched Mamoru with taunting, vicious eyes.

"You think you can take her from me?" Seijuro's voice was a snarl.

His fingers tightened around Usagi's neck, clamping down and digging into her pale skin. His other hand fisted into golden hair, and then he twisted. There was a gruesome _crack_ and she went limp, head lolling.

His arms opened again, and Usagi crumpled to the ground without so much as a twitch.

"You think you _deserve_ her? You can't even _protect_ her!" Seijuro crowed, his skin shimmering, his hair lengthening, and suddenly it wasn't Seijuro who stood over Usagi's lifeless body, but the alien, Ail.

Mamoru's world narrowed to a pinprick, everything centered on that hateful, mocking face. Ineffectual fingers twitched, trying to conjure a rose, but his hands wouldn't cooperate. Endymion's sword clattered to the ground next to him, useless. Every attempt to become Tuxedo Mask sputtered out, as though he wasn't even the masked hero.

 _He was_ _**worthless**_ _._

Panting with exertion, Mamoru finally abandoned all pretense. Jerking his body into motion, he launched himself at the pallid alien, fumbling his hands for the murderer's throat.

As his fingers clumsily closed around the monster's windpipe, it blinked out of existence.

Ail disappeared entirely, leaving Mamoru stumbling in his wake. He attempted to catch his balance, but his foot caught and Mamoru tripped over Usagi's slack calf.

His breaths were shallow gasps, and he found himself lying on the ground, tangled in Usagi's flaxen hair and endless limp limbs. Her skin was cold as he pulled her into his lap, clasped a hand to her cheek, her name a babbling plea on his lips.

No matter what he said, how he begged, her once-vibrant eyes remained glassy and vacant.

Mamoru jerked from his nightmare into the familiar drone of his alarm clock announcing that it was 8:15am. _Just a dream. It was just a dream._

Pushing himself into a seated position, he realized that a piece of paper was clinging to the clammy sweat on his cheek. Rubbing a hand over his face, he dislodged the paper and it fluttered down, landing atop the nest of notes he'd accidentally fallen asleep in. He released a grunt of frustration, one hand concealing his eyes.

Given how many of his waking hours were already consumed with worrying about Usagi, it had only been a matter of time, but _damn._ He was not equipped to handle dreams like that on top of his constant daytime fears.

Blindly smacking his alarm clock 'off' with one hand, he used the other to pick up the pencil that had rolled off the bed when he'd dozed off the night before. Barely a moment later, he'd found the line in his stack of papers where he had faded the night before, and resumed his work.

Sliding the map out from under his stack of notes, he cross-referenced, yet again, the locations of the Cardian attacks. _Surely there had to be a connection. There had to be_ _ **some**_ _way to find this guy and eliminate him before he could ever get near Usagi again._

"You know," a dry voice said. "Obsessively pouring over the records of the recent Cardian attacks is something you could have done at a nightly meeting."

He whipped his head up to meet the eyes of the black cat sitting atop the shelves next to his bed. Her tail twitched from side to side behind her, and Mamoru exhaled.

"I didn't feel like sitting through yet another one of Artemis's lists of '30 Reasons Why the World Would Be Better Off If We At Least Reawaken Sailor V.' It's a waste of valuable time that we could be using to find this enemy who seems fixated on Usagi."

It was Luna's turn to sigh. "Mamoru, I'm with you about the other girls – Ami, Rei, Makoto… none of them asked for this. But Artemis did know Minako best, and if he thinks she'd want to be reawakened…"

"And then it's 'Don't you think Rei would want to be reawakened' and 'Well, Makoto would want Usagi safe…' and then next thing you know everyone is awake again and we've completely disregarded what Usagi wanted. What she _died for_."

"Don't you think that's a little unfair, Mamoru-san?"

"More unfair than dying for something you believe in, only to have the people who supposedly love you decide they know better?"

Luna exhaled all the way down to her toes. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were solemn. "I wish Queen Serenity could have better prepared us for this," she confessed, voice cracking.

Steepling his fingers, Mamoru nodded his sympathy.

As a Terran, Endymion had only met the Lunar queen a handful of times, and he couldn't speak to what wisdom she might have left them with for this situation. But Chiba Mamoru's life so far had been little else but the overwhelming sensation of being lost and longing fruitlessly for a map. He'd learned a decade ago that he could only rely on his own intuition – and two months ago, he'd learned that even that was crap.

With so few things in this world that he felt confident believing in, Mamoru had absolute faith in Tsukino Usagi.

"I think she would tell you to trust in what her daughter wanted," Mamoru said quietly, and Luna sniffled.

"I do, too." Luna's admission was nearly inaudible.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes before the scratching of Mamoru's pencil along his notes resumed.

Finally, Luna hopped from the shelves and down to the bed, next to Mamoru. She took a seat next to him, curling her tail around her body, and neither of them mentioned the dampness on the fur of her cheeks.

"Any leads?" she asked, leaning over his forearm to peer at the map he was scribbling on, and Mamoru shook his head.

"Nothing on the next Cardian," he muttered, tapping the eraser of his pencil against the top of his stack of papers. "But that alien… he knew Usagi."

Feline shoulders slumped. Mamoru had been ruminating on nothing but this detail for the last week.

Three nights ago, there had been a thump on the roof of Usagi's bedroom in the middle of the night. Exhausted and bewildered, Luna had dragged her weary body up onto the Tsukino's roof to investigate, only to find Tuxedo Mask sitting cross-legged on the red tiles, poring over Mamoru's ever-present stack of research.

"Mamoru-san," she had sighed the long-suffering sigh of a parent who has already read their child a story, tucked them in twice, and gotten them three glasses of water. "Go home and go to bed."

Mamoru's blue eyes had bored into Luna from behind his Domino mask. "If I can find her knowing just her name, he can find her."

"And you think 1AM on a Thursday is when the enemy will make their move?"

Gloved fingers had rubbed tired temples. "I don't _know_. But I can't just sit at home and do _nothing_."

"Your devotion is admirable," Luna said, her voice an attempt at patience, "But you won't be able to protect her if you sleep through the next Cardian attack because you were up all night worrying. Go home. Take care of yourself first."

"And what if he does attack her when I'm not here?"

Luna's chest had puffed out for a moment before she'd suddenly leapt backwards into the air, her feet flipping over her head. She'd landed neatly in a crouch, and a small black device clattered against the roof tiles next to Tuxedo Mask's thigh.

"What…?" He picked up the unfamiliar gadget and pressed a button. In the top right corner, a circle with a cross through the middle momentarily flashed, then disappeared.

"It's a communicator," Luna explained. "Like the Senshi hav-had. So, I'll be able to get in touch with you if anything happens." Her fuzzy face turned just the slightest bit wry. "I have faith you'll be here in an instant if I contact you."

There was a faint pause, and Mamoru nodded before slipping the device into his right pocket. "Even if you just have a bad feeling…"

"I promise. If anything happens, I'll call you first. Now, go home, Mamoru-san."

His eyes had flicked down, lingering on the red roof tiles just below his feet before he'd pressed his lips together. His fingers had twitched the tiniest bit, and then he'd finally met Luna's eyes.

"Okay," he'd said.

His journey back home had been difficult, and he spent the entire trip suppressing his constant, pounding urge to turn back and camp on the Tsukino's roof, what Luna said be damned.

Anxiety had stopped him from sleeping well that night, and for the next two nights. Instead, he subsisted on too much coffee and the occasional power nap spread out across his Cardian research.

Now, in the Saturday morning light of Mamoru's apartment, Luna dropped her chin to the mattress in resignation. "Mamoru-san," she said, voice muffled by his bedding, "Don't you think that if this guy was planning to come for Usagi-chan, he would have done it by now?"

He ran a hand through his hair, further mussing his morning bedhead, before climbing out of the bed. Still flipping through a handful of papers, he blindly fumbled through his kitchen cupboard for his coffee canister.

He was rereading his notes on the alien's physical description when a half-remembered thought reasserted itself to the forefront of his mind. Frowning, he looked up at Luna.

The cat was draped across his bed, unmoving, in a tangible state of despair.

"He told the Cardian to go easy on Usagi," Mamoru mumbled incredulously, and Luna lifted her head.

"He did?"

"When she was… when it was…" his throat was dry and his tongue felt thick in his mouth as he tried to form the words. _When Usagi was being electrocuted._

He looked away from the cat and into the cupboard, his eyes instantly landing on his errant coffee. His fingers sprang the latch on the canister, and he swallowed. "When she was being… attacked. The alien, he appeared and told the Cardian to 'go easy on that one.' And then she stopped attacking her. She let her go."

As Mamoru explained, Luna's back arched up, and her posture rapidly changed from languid nonchalance to intent interest. "You couldn't have mentioned that sooner?" she asked.

His stomach churned, and he looked down into his coffee canister in an effort to avoid the cat's irritated expression.

Three sad beans and the gleaming silver bottom of the canister stared up at him; he'd been so busy stalking Usagi this past week that he'd forgotten to go to the store.

 _Protecting! Not stalking!_ His mental correction came too late, and a swell of shame swept through him.

He could keep telling himself that he was only concerned for her safety, but right now he was barely a step up from watching Usagi from the bushes like a creep. _It was all wrong. No matter what he did, he was never going to fit in her life_.

He wasn't prepared to process the emotions that came with these thoughts, especially not before coffee.

Rubbing a hand over his tired face, he turned to look at Luna. "I need caffeine," he grumbled.

"You _need_ to sleep," she groused back, using her paws in an attempt to transform the mass of papers scattered on the bed into an orderly stack.

"I'll be fine after I get more coffee."

A few minutes later, having paused only to throw on a t-shirt and his favorite pants, Mamoru stepped down into his genkan. "Do you want to come along?" he asked, a little hesitantly, and Luna hopped to the floor.

"Yes," she agreed. "If nothing else, we should discuss further why you didn't think to mention that the alien wanted his Cardian to 'go easy' on Usagi." She arched an eyebrow at Mamoru, but he trained his eyes stubbornly on his green door.

"This may be important business. Should we consult Artemis?" she asked, then giggled when Mamoru's face involuntarily soured.

As she laughed, he pressed a finger between his eyebrows, but couldn't hold back a tiny snort. Shaking his head as his lips quirked up almost imperceptibly, he said "No more jokes until after coffee, okay?"

* * *

"I don't want to just be _reacting_ anymore," Mamoru said as he made his way toward Fruit Parlor. His hands were deep in his pockets, and Luna was balanced on one shoulder.

"Well, we really need more information about the enemy," Luna said, and Mamoru tilted his head the slightest bit to give her a look.

"That's not supposed to be criticism! I just meant that at least with The Dark Kingdom we had an idea of what we were dealing with. These guys… we don't know where they came from, and we don't know why they're attacking people. Without that information, it's hard to do anything _but_ react."

Mamoru didn't respond. It was debatable if he'd even heard her – they were less than a block from Fruit Parlor, but he was distracted, sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. Seated at a patio table outside a nearby café, facing away from him, was a blonde with a very unique hairstyle. A very _specific_ unique hairstyle.

His brow furrowed, and his eyes darted about, trying to find a clock. It couldn't be later than 9am, there was no _way_ that Usagi should be out-and-about this early. But his heart sank when the odangoed head moved to the left and revealed Seijuro sitting across the table from her.

"Hey, Luna?" Mamoru murmured absently. "Had you ever seen Ginga Seijuro or Ginga Natsumi around before those aliens showed up?"

Luna snorted through her nose. "Mamoru-san, just because Usagi-chan went on a date with someone other than you, that doesn't make him evil."

He pressed his lips together. "But he knew her name. He asked Hell Ant to go easy on her. Who else is new and would know or care about Usagi like that?" _Not to mention last night's nightmare._

Luna slumped her head against Mamoru's temple in response. "Just go and get your coffee, Mamoru-san. We can discuss this further after."

There was a moment's pause, and then Mamoru's feet re-routed, taking him away from Fruit Parlor and in the direction of the little cafe instead. _They probably had coffee there, right?_ He vaguely heard Luna's groan of resignation as she sank into the crook of his neck.

Mamoru pushed open the gate to step into the café's patio, his eyes sliding over to scope out Seijuro and Usagi's early-morning date.

Usagi was single-mindedly tucking into a crepe with rapture, and Mamoru nearly clapped his hand to his forehead at the sudden, painfully obvious, realization.

 _Why, with everything that he knew about Usagi, had it never occurred to him to_ _**feed** _ _**her**_ _?_

He had nearly slipped through the door and into the café when he heard a derisive snort from behind him. "Why would anyone wear pants like that? Doesn't he own any other clothing?"

He swiveled his head around to meet startled blue eyes, then glanced behind Usagi and into Seijuro's sneering face.

With a slight furrow between her eyebrows, Usagi turned her head to look first at her date and then at Mamoru.

Then, her mouth dropped open and she jumped to her feet, abandoning her half-eaten crepe on the table. "What are you doing with Luna?!"

Mamoru's hand froze on the door handle. _Shit._

He turned back around, shooting the cat a look out of the corner of his eye as he did so. The feline's expression was similarly bewildered – neither of them had a convenient, non-incriminating excuse handy as to why Mamoru might be walking around Juuban with Usagi's cat on his shoulder.

"Luna's a really special cat, you know." He wanted to smack himself. _Was he not capable of an original thought when he was around her?_

The crinkle in Usagi's forehead deepened, and she tilted her head at Mamoru in a way that suggested serious concern for his sanity. "Yeah, I know that. She's _my_ _cat_."

"Right," Mamoru said, still casting about desperately for an excuse. Coming up empty, he decided to just follow the thread. "You should really take better care of your pet, though, Usagi-san. She almost got hit by a car."

His stomach squirmed at the look of horror that blossomed on her face, and he immediately backpedaled. "I mean, she could have been. She was just wandering in the street, so when I recognized that she was your cat I decided to bring her back to you."

As he spoke, he scooped the cat from his shoulder and offered her to Usagi. Luna's gaze on Mamoru was peevish as Usagi carefully checked her for injuries and fussed over her, concluding with "…but mean Mamoru brought you back to me, so it's all okay now."

He was trying to decide if 'Mean Mamoru' was an improvement over 'Mamoru-baka' when Seijuro rose to his feet, clearing his throat and crossing his arms.

"Thanks, Chiba," he said with a painfully forced smile and an eyebrow arched in condescending challenge. "But we wouldn't want to keep you from the rest of your day." _You can go now._

Nose twitching slightly, Mamoru fell back on his default asshole smirk, sinking one hand into his pants pocket. "It's still early," he tossed back. "And it really was no trouble." _Make me._

Usagi's eyes flicked between the two glaring boys, her mouth a moue. She tapped her fingers against the table momentarily before reaching up and curling them into one of her long ribbons of hair.

Eventually, she clucked her tongue and said "I should take Luna home, I guess." Her eyes met Mamoru's as she spoke. "Thank you for rescuing her." She then turned her focus to Seijuro. "And thank you for breakfast, Seijuro-kun."

"Of course, Usagi-chan!" Seijuro spoke instantly, cutting off Mamoru's chance to respond. "In fact, let me walk you home. That way, I'll know where to pick you up tomorrow."

Mamoru's spine went rigid. Red eyes shot a warning look over Usagi's shoulder as Luna immediately picked up on the source of his tension, and Mamoru released a trembling exhale.

"Tomorrow?" he blurted.

The venomous expression Seijuro shot him unequivocally asked _Why-are-you-still-here?_ but Usagi cuddled her cat to her chest and said "Yeah, a big group of us are going to Shiba park for the cherry blossom festival tomorrow. Um. I guess… you could join us if you want? Since you saved Luna and all?"

His heart palpitated in his chest, certain he'd misheard her. _There was no way Tsukino Usagi had really just invited him to join her and her friends somewhere._

"Uh. Sure, maybe," he said. "If I get my homework done early."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Tomorrow is _Sunday_ , Chiba. Live a little."

Again, he didn't have a chance to respond, because Seijuro placed his hand on Usagi's back and began casually steering her out of the café's little patio. Instead, he waved a little helplessly and felt a swell of confused joy when Usagi actually waved back.

After Seijuro and Usagi had walked away, Mamoru beelined to the nearest grocery store, completely abandoning his quest for coffee.

Usagi had invited him somewhere. Sure, it was technically to watch her go on a date with another guy, but she'd _invited him._ And there was _no chance_ that he would willingly leave her alone with the nefarious Seijuro – not when he had a ready-made socially acceptable excuse to keep an eye on them.

His homework could wait. He was definitely going to Shiba park the next day.

_And he was gonna feed her, damnit._

* * *

_He was only here so early because he couldn't sleep_ , he insisted to himself as he carefully spread out the waterproof picnic blanket that he'd purchased the day before.

This was his first Hanami festival, and so he wasn't sure of the proper protocols. He'd expected more people to get there before dawn to claim the best spots, and was a bit chagrined that this didn't seem to be the case. However, he was relieved that there was at least one other nut – in a _sleeping bag_ , no less – who had come absurdly early to stake out a space before the crowds arrived.

He'd decided to set up his own picnic area right next to this little makeshift campsite; unsurprisingly, the person bundled in the sleeping bag had picked the best spot in the park, but Mamoru would accept second-best.

Once he had settled in – smoothing the wrinkles from his plum-colored blanket and setting his new wicker picnic basket on its far corner – he pulled his notes, a flashlight, and a thermos of coffee from the basket and once again dove into the mystery of the two green-skinned aliens who were terrorizing Tokyo.

So enthralled in his notes, he barely registered the orange glow of sunrise, just absently tossed his flashlight to the side once the sky lightened enough to read without it. After his conversation with Luna the day before, all of his data were now leading him back to the same conclusion – Seijuro and Ail were the same person. Which presented an ever-more-pressing question: _What did he want with Usagi?_

He was staring absently across the campus, idly tapping his pencil, when he blinked and re-focused his eyes.

The person in the sleeping bag had emerged from their cocoon, and was now sitting cross-legged and anxious in the middle of their green picnic blanket. Mamoru's forehead creased as he watched the bespectacled young man swivel his head from side-to-side in clear nervous agitation – _why did he look so familiar?_

With a small lurch low in his stomach, the memory of the day he had taken Rei out on a rowboat at Chidori-Ga-Fuchi Park came rushing back. The boy with the sleeping bag was Gurio Umino – another friend of Usagi's. _One who had taken her on a date once._

Dropping his gaze to his notes, he tamped down on the unreasonable roil in his belly – after all, he'd been on a date with Rei that same day. He had no right to be jealous.

He glanced up again at the brown-haired boy and blew out a puff of breath. Rational or not, the idea that Usagi would consider going out with Gurio Umino but not him twisted like a knife in his gut. _And he had no one to blame but himself._

"Make way, make way, Usagi's coming through!" Her familiar happy chirrup shook him from these dark, possessive thoughts. He turned to watch her, swinging her arms and beaming brightly as she led her little cluster of friends through the sweetly scented trees.

"HEY, EVERYONE, OVER HERE!" Umino cried loudly, waving both of his hands spastically to draw their attention while Mamoru shrank in on himself, hoping, not for the first time, to be overlooked.

Ducking his head, he took in the inadequacy of his own little picnic setup through fresh eyes. Umino had a better spot, a bigger blanket. An existing relationship with Usagi and her friends. As he imagined Usagi's dismissive reaction to his own lame attempt, he wondered why he hadn't considered the complexities of joining a preexisting clique _before_ he'd stupidly decided to put himself in this situation.

When he finally convinced himself to look back up, his eyes latched onto Seijuro, who was lingering at the back of the bunch.

_Right. That was why._

Sweeping his sprawling, disorganized papers into a somewhat-neat stack, he took an extra few seconds to be sure he'd adequately buried the half-dozen papers covered in stalker-level scribblings proclaiming Usagi to be in danger and Seijuro to be the most likely threat. Then, he scooted down the blanket and shoved the papers inside his basket.

A few feet away, he could hear Umino explaining how he'd spent the night warm in his sleeping bag, and he watched as Naru zipped the blanket closed over Umino's face.

Feeling a surprising surge of empathy for the younger boy, he clambered to his feet and made his way over to the little group, burying his hands in his pockets as he moved.

"Hey," he said, and watched Usagi spin to face him, blue eyes wide and golden hair whipping in the morning light.

"Ma-Chiba! I didn't expect to see you here!"

He raised his shoulders sheepishly. "Someone told me I should live a little. I, ah, actually claimed the spot right next door, too." He jerked a thumb behind him at his mediocre little picnic spread and watched Usagi's eyes get somehow even wider.

"Oh, wow. Well, um." Looking a bit off-kilter, she turned her head towards her friends, then back to him. "Uh, everyone, this is Chiba Mamoru. These are my friends, Osaka Naru, Gurio Umino, Mizuno Ami, and Kino Makoto." Usagi pointed as she spoke, and each person waved a hand as she said their name; Mamoru, in turn, diplomatically refrained from confessing that these introductions were superfluous.

"You already know Natsumi-san and Seijuro-kun." Natsumi smiled a big bright smile and batted her eyelashes, while Seijuro jerked his chin up and stared down his nose at Mamoru.

"And then this is my teacher, Haruna-Sensei."

The brunette woman bowed politely. "Pleased to meet you," she said, and Mamoru flashed a weak smile around the circle of faces as his heartbeat ratcheted up.

 _Her teacher?! Why her teacher? It was_ _ **Sunday**_ _, this shouldn't be a school outing…_ He quickly counted, and realized that every single person but him either attended or worked at Juuban Middle School. _What the hell was he even doing here?!_

"Nice to meet everyone," he mumbled, his return bow a long pause that gave him plenty of time to stare at his shoes. "I, ah, didn't know Gurio-san would be here, so I actually saved a spot as well."

"Great," said Seijuro, taking a step closer to Usagi. "You, Makoto-san, Ami-san, and Haruna-sensei can sit over there, and the rest of us will sit over here."

Crossing her arms, Natsumi threw her brother a reproachful look. "I'll sit with Mamoru-kun, thanks," she said, clicking her tongue.

Meanwhile, Usagi's mouth pulled into a frown, and she looked up at Seijuro. "But… I wanted to hang out with _everyone_ today," she said.

Seijuro's jaw tightened, and for a split second his eyes swept to the left and over Mamoru. "Right," he said. "It's too bad we have one too many picnic spaces, then."

A cluster headache was beginning to bloom between Mamoru's temples. Inhaling sharply through his nose, he clenched his fist and allowed himself, for just a moment, to fantasize about nailing Ginga Seijuro between the eyes with a well-aimed rose.

The tension was split by the quiet voice of Mizuno Ami: "Is there a reason we couldn't just move the other blanket over?" she asked. "Chiba-san's section is only about five feet away, and there's no path or any kind of obstruction between the two areas. I can't imagine why anyone would object."

Seijuro's eyes promised murder, but Usagi's lit up. "That's a great idea, Ami-chan!"

"Yeah, that'll take like, five seconds!" Makoto said. "C'mon, boys, everyone grab a corner, we'll have this thing set up in no time."

Each of them seized a corner of the purple blanket, Seijuro begrudgingly, and as Makoto had predicted, it took less than thirty seconds to relocate Mamoru's picnic area so it overlapped Umino's.

Natsumi grabbed Mamoru's basket, and found herself huffing as she transported it between the two spots.

"My goodness, Mamoru-kun, what in the world do you have in here?!" she asked with a tinkling laugh as she dropped the basket to the blanket with a heavy thump.

His breath caught in his throat as Natsumi bent to open the latch. "Oh, just food," he attempted to wave it off, kneeling next to her. "Here, I've got it."

He lifted the lid, careful to keep his notes obscured, and began extracting the various goodies that he'd prepped and packed the day before.

Soon, the violet throw was dotted with several large bottles of water, a stack of reusable plates, a tower of plastic cups stuffed full of chopstick sets, a sizeable bento of assorted onigiri, two medium-sized bento – one full of tamagoyaki and one full of inarizushi – and a big glass bowl filled with sliced watermelon and stemmed strawberries.

He'd been unable to resist also packing a small sampler of Hanami Dango, but when he noticed Usagi scoping out his bowl of fruit, he chickened out and left it in the basket, next to his research and the now-empty coffee thermos.

As he attempted to get comfortable, the others began claiming spots on one blanket or the other, eventually settling into an oddly malformed s-shape that snaked between the two blankets, leaving Mamoru self-consciously lingering at one end. Near him, Ami pulled out a box that was stuffed half with triangle-cut sandwiches and half with onigiri. Makoto, meanwhile, was opening a bento so impressive that he was beginning to question the wisdom of his decision to try to feed Usagi in the first place.

Swiveling his eyes from the tall brunette with a nervous gulp, he watched Naru and Umino giggle together, their heads close, before Naru offered Umino a lunch she had prepared. Any lingering trepidation Mamoru had around the younger boy abruptly vanished, and something in his chest swelled as he pivoted his focus to avoid intruding on their tender moment.

Neither Natsumi nor Seijuro had thought to bring a lunch, a detail which Mamoru mentally filed away. It further supported his theory that there was something distinctly 'off' about the two siblings.

_Such as them being aliens._

While everyone else seemed to have picked a spot to sit, Usagi flitted from friend to friend, first scootching up next to Haruna-sensei, then leaning in between Naru and Umino, her eyes sparkling as she drooled over their respective meals. Unsurprisingly, each person told Usagi to take as much as she wanted, and Usagi happily did.

As she got closer and closer to him, Mamoru pressed the sweaty flats of his palms into the denim of his jeans. His breath felt shallow in his chest, like it had gotten caught up somewhere around his heart and been trapped there. Ridiculous though it may have been, he had no idea what he would do if she didn't like his food.

"So, Mamoru-san," a kindly voice said, and he turned to find that Mizuno Ami had slid over to sit right next to him. "Where do you go to school?"

"Oh, ah, I just started at Keio," he said, reluctantly peeling his eyes from the ball of sunshine who was currently raving over the contents of Kino Makoto's bento box.

"That's amazing, Keio is a really excellent school! Which program are you matriculated in?"

He shifted somewhat and rubbed the back of his neck. Even though she was asking the right questions without him steering the conversation at all, some part of him felt like it was cheating to use their mutual interest in medicine to bond with Ami.

"Er… The medical program. I'm hoping to specialize in neurology."

"Oh, really? I'm planning to go into medicine as well! I actually…" she glanced at Usagi, who was utterly enraptured by something from Makoto's lunch, then turned back to him, lowering her voice. "Over the break between school years, I actually applied to an academic program at the Charité Berlin." He blinked, shooting Ami an incredulous expression. He hadn't even _considered_ applying to Charité Berlin for his degree - it was one of the most competitive and prestigious medical programs in the world, not to mention it was located on another continent.

"Naturally, I'm only a middle school student, but this program would essentially permit me to earn credits towards a future medical degree while still completing my current curriculum remotely." Her chin dropped, and her gaze fell to her fingers, fidgeting with the lunch box in her lap. "Of course, when I initially applied, things were a little different…"

He nodded, knowing intimately what it was like to realize all the flaws in your carefully laid plans the moment Tsukino Usagi entered your life.

"Anyway," she said, shaking off her gloom and pasting on a big smile. "It's unlikely I'll get in. They only accept two or three students per year, and it's a global program." Delicate fingers pulled a rice ball from her lunch box, and she looked to Mamoru with interest. "So, tell me a little more about you! Are you also one of Usagi-chan's strays?"

At the unexpected accuracy of her question, he flushed from the neckline of his white button-down all the way up to his hairline.

He was spared from having to explain when Usagi flounced down next to Ami, a broad smile on her face and her eyes flicking to the onigiri the other girl had prepared.

"Please, help yourself," Ami said, offering the bento before she could even ask.

Usagi's face lit up, and she grabbed two of the rice balls with greedy fingers.

His heart was pounding as he leaned back marginally, summoning his most casual tone. "Usagi-san, you're welcome to some of my food as well." His assortment of treats had been spread across the blanket in front of him with calculated unconcern, in the hopes of benignly luring her over.

Her nose scrunched slightly and her smile dimmed as she sucked on the inside of her cheek. "Why, so you can make fun of me?"

He inhaled through the pang in his chest. "No, I just… I made way too much for one person." _Cue a deliberately indifferent shrug_. "If you don't help me eat it, I'll have to throw it away."

With suspicious eyes, she carefully selected a piece of inarizushi from his box and popped it into her mouth.

"Mmm," she said, fingers at her lips, mouth still half-full. "That's good. I mean, it's not as good as Mako-chan's, but it's good!"

The tension of his shoulders dissipated, and his mouth curved into a genuine smile. "I guess I need more practice, then."

With a surge of relief, he leaned back, dropping his hands to the ground behind him, when a jolt shuddered through him. The very tips of his fingers had spilled off the blanket to rest against the grass of the field, but… He slid his hand out further, pressing it flat against the earth, and frowned.

He couldn't explain why, but he could sense that _something_ was wrong, and whatever it was, it was near.

His eyes shot to Seijuro, who was seated on the far side of Umino's blanket with his arms crossed and a look of deepest loathing on his face.

 _Maybe this headache_ _**wasn't** _ _just the result of the other boy's obnoxious behavior._

He closed his eyes, momentarily cursing the unfairness of it all. "Uh, pardon me, Usagi-san. Mizuno-san. I just remembered I have a… a thing. Feel free to eat more of my food, I'll be back soon."

He stood and left quickly, not confident enough to look back to see if Usagi might be disappointed or just indifferent to seeing him leave. Furthermore, his head was starting to throb, which he was reasonably certain was not an auspicious sign.

Walking briskly, he swiftly made his way through the lacy pink trees, past assorted happy picnickers, momentum carrying him until he stepped into an oddly deserted clearing.

Something about this space raised the hairs on the back of his neck. After scanning the perimeter, he lowered to a crouch, closing his eyes and flattening his palm against the earth. Allowing the constant pulsating worry of the last week to finally quiet, he reached his senses out into the stillness of the soil, searching out that indefinable impression of _wrongness_.

Again, he nearly jerked his hand away; the sensation threatened to overwhelm him. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself further, letting his mind take in the stability of the tree roots, the aura of malice that twisted its way towards him through the loam, the pulse of footsteps from behind him…

"What is _up_ with you?" He twisted his head in wide-eyed horror to gape at the odangoed blonde who had followed him.

His fingertips gouged the topsoil for a fraction of a second before he pushed himself up, his lunge just high enough to catch Usagi around the waist. He tackled her to the ground, and she cried out, startled, as her back hit the grass. Then, she cried out again, this time with fright, as the place where she had been standing only seconds before began to pulsate with bright, ominous energy.

Mamoru dug his nails into his palms, fighting the urge to pull Usagi to his chest, to use his own body to shelter her from the danger.

Instead, he pushed himself up and away from her, his stomach roiling as a red-trimmed hemline appeared in his peripheral vision. He followed the line of silk up to find a dark-haired woman standing over them, clad in full kimono, the slightest smile on her painted lips.

He whipped his head back down to Usagi; the vibrations of the earth screamed out to him that this woman meant them harm.

Usagi's face reflected the terror that Mamoru felt. "What's happening?" she half-whispered, and he shook his head.

"When I say the word, you make a run back to the others, okay?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth dropped open. "And just leave you behind?!"

"Usagi. This really isn't the time."

"I don't care, I'm not leaving you!"

But they were wasting precious seconds, and he leapt the rest of the way to his feet, crying "Usagi, now!" as he put himself between the mysterious geisha and Usagi.

Predictably, Usagi made no move to leave, instead scrambling to find her own footing before unconsciously slipping into the familiar fighting stance of Sailor Moon.

He drew a sharp breath in and blinked his eyes closed hard, curling one hand into a fist.

_This had been so much easier when Usagi knew how to fight monsters too, and didn't always have to depend on him to rescue her._

But if she wouldn't run for cover, and he couldn't transform before her, there was really only one option available. It was a terrible idea, but he couldn't think of a better one.

He rushed at the mysterious woman, hoping against hope that all his instincts about her had been wrong.

The geisha didn't flinch, barely reacted to his advance. Instead, she looked deep into his face, and her eyes momentarily flashed crimson.

With pale hands, she grabbed his shoulders and shoved, her beautiful face twisting into something grimalkin and nightmarish. She hissed the word "Leshy," and then, in a terrifying display of force, simultaneously drove Mamoru to the ground and rocketed him away from Usagi with a blast of energy so powerful that it carved a furrow into the earth below them.

In mere seconds, the creature's attack had pushed him deep into the recesses of the park, far from Usagi's view. _Big mistake._

The cat-faced Cardian snarled down at him, but he threw his hand out to the side and closed his fingers around a red rose. He jammed the sharpened stem of the flower through the monster's cheek as his clothing morphed from jeans and button-up into vest and cape.

She shrieked in response, releasing his shoulders and the momentum that had carried them both; Tuxedo Mask's back collided painfully with the ground as she dropped him, knocking the air from his lungs.

Panting, trying to catch his breath and regroup, he realized that the Cardian was no longer hovering over him. Swiveling his head, he watched with dawning horror as the feline geisha glided along the ground away from him, following the trench back towards the clearing she'd just dragged him from.

_She was searching out easier prey._

In an instant, he'd found his feet again, bounding in the wake of the monster.

Unlike the fight in the arcade, this time he was just seconds behind; he arrived in the clearing almost in time with Leshy. He perched on a nearby tree branch only long enough to witness the geisha hovering, menacingly, in the sky above the diminutive blonde.

Before the Cardian could begin her charge, Tuxedo Mask made his dive into the melee.

Heart pounding in his ears, he landed next to Usagi, throwing one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulder blades. He vaulted back into the sky, Leshy's claws missing the flap of his cape by only a hair's breadth.

His leap took them soaring back towards the tree branch, and he found himself momentarily engulfed in that tremulous sensation of belonging that had always come with close proximity to Sailor Moon. But instead of allowing him to effortlessly carry her, as Sailor Moon always had, Usagi wriggled in his arms like an aggravated kitten.

The moment they landed in the nearby tree's branches, she broke free of his grasp, and he only narrowly caught her shoulders in time to stop her from falling right out of the tree.

"Tuxedo Mask!" Her voice was frantic as she tried to loosen his grip on her forearms. "We have to go back! My friend, Chiba Mamoru – he was down there, I lost him in the fray! That thing got him!"

 _Friend._ His lungs squeezed; if it weren't for the years of practice at suppressing his reactions, he would never have been able to hold back his instinctive silly grin.

Instead, he kept his nod stoic. _They were in the middle of a battle, after all._ "Right. Do not worry, Usagi, your friend is safe. Please stay here for now."

Her face was petulant. "I can help!" she argued, and he shook his head.

"Though I do know that, if I fear for your safety, we might both get hurt."

She took a sharp inhale, and he paused to stare into her eyes through his mask, his fingers digging into her arms ever-so-slightly. "Promise me."

Her fists balled, her nose crinkled, and she tossed her head from side to side before she sighed. "Fine. I promise. Now go, okay!"

With her safety assured, Tuxedo Mask didn't need to be told twice. Leaping from the branch, he swooped down into the clearing where the tree-like Cardian still lurked.

When he landed and Leshy didn't immediately charge him, he squeezed his lips together before grabbing the middle finger of his glove, deftly pulling the kidskin off.

Feeling unmistakably silly, he sank to his knees and lowered his bare hand to the ground. Still sweeping his eyes across the glade, hyperaware of any sign of movement, the press of his palm against the earth only added the slightest tingle to his senses. With a heavy swallow, he allowed his eyes to drift closed, and felt the odd thrum of extrasensory awareness heighten.

When his eyes opened again, they latched onto the one sapling across the field that stood distinct from the treeline.

_There._

As he watched, the tree slowly distorted, almost as though she realized that she was being observed. The branches glowed with a malignant power and the spectral shape of a crucified woman emerged from the trunk of the tree, red eyes sparking as they contemplated him.

His own eyes snapped away, some part of him instinctively aware that meeting this Cardian's gaze would be a mistake. Keeping his hand grounded, he instead forced his eyelids closed with a sharp exhale.

The rush of perception again poured in through his fingers. He didn't understand this indelible connection but, somehow, his bare skin was able to divine the gentle murmurings of the planet. The alien presence of this Cardian, however, made the Earth wail, begging Mamoru to purge the infection that harrowed its surface. It told him, without his needing to look, that though the geisha was lingering on the other side of the meadow, she was preparing to spring.

With a deep sigh, his shoulders slumped forward and he reached his free hand out, curling gloved fingers around the handle of Endymion's sword.

Lifting the weapon before him, he opened his eyes as the creature began the lunge that the whispers of the earth had promised.

He rose, swinging the blade between them and driving the Cardian back. However, coming to a stand broke his connection to the ground, allowing the ghostly figure to vanish into the trees.

Gritting his teeth, he dropped to a crouch again, seeking the dirt with the flat of his palm. When his hand connected, he allowed his eyes to close again and his awareness to fan through the soil until it centered on the baleful tangle of roots speeding up behind him.

He dove to the side, narrowly dodging the monster's grasping talons. He swung the sword blindly, clipping her leg as she dove past.

Snarling violently, Leshy wheeled on him, taking a powerful swipe with her claws. He was barely able to get his arm up in time to block, let alone quickly enough to slash back with the blade. Instead, her fingers gashed into his forearm, splattering scarlet droplets across his white shirt and along the grass.

Wincing, he generated a fresh rose as the demonic feline growled over him. With a jab, he forced the sharp stem through the geisha's obi and into her belly.

She backhanded him with a wounded screech, the strength of her blow sending him flying across the field. He landed awkwardly, one of his knees breaking his fall, and Endymion's sword went skittering along the grass and out of reach.

Rolling to his back with a pained grunt, he wheezed once. The Cardian howled, preparing to finish him off, and he struggled to raise himself back into a seated position. Pressing his hand to the ground, he froze in horror.

Thirty feet behind him, he felt a pair of size-six shoes settle on the ground, their owner having finally scrabbled her way down from the safety of the tree branch where he'd left her.

A surge of adrenaline shuddered through his body, and he managed to roll out of the path of the stampeding Cardian in the nick of time. The crevasse she'd slashed in the soil stopped less than an inch from his head.

"Hey!" Usagi's angry voice bellowed from across the clearing, and Tuxedo Mask's face twisted into a grimace. He braced his bleeding forearm against the dirt, forcing his aching limbs to _move,_ to _get up_ before the geisha decided to change targets _._

 _Too late._ Usagi hurled one of her saddle shoes at the creature's head, and Leshy pivoted her attention completely from him to Usagi.

Usagi straightened from removing her other shoe, the projectile clutched in her hand and ready to throw. She and the geisha momentarily locked eyes, and the girl cried out and collapsed. A pulsating blast of poisonous energy scorched the grass around her, and she screamed.

Tuxedo Mask didn't need the press of the earth to know that Usagi's time was running out. Limbs trembling, he fumbled along the ground, closing the gap between himself and the sword. After what felt like hours, his hand clasped its cold metal handle, and he struggled woozily to his feet.

His breath came out in a hiss when he rested his full weight on his left leg, but there wasn't time to worry about that now. Too tired for one of his customary dramatic leaps, he instead half-hobbled his way to the geisha, who stood over Usagi in gloating triumph.

His hold on the broadsword was clumsy, wielding it almost like a dagger, when he grabbed the geisha's shoulder and shoved her so she faced him. He forced the blade into her red-sparkling eye with a vicious twist, and watched with vindictive satisfaction as her face froze and ichor dribbled down her cheek. Her body went rigid, then toppled over.

The Cardian's corpse began to fade away, and Tuxedo Mask felt his body sag with both fatigue and relief when the acrimonious aura around Usagi also dissipated.

He tried to step towards her, but the moment his right foot moved, his leg gave out. He found himself squatting, Endymion's sword driven into the ground as a makeshift support while he tried to focus on evening out his panting breaths.

A small hand pressed against his shoulder blade, and he barely suppressed his instinctive flinch. Usagi was crouched next to him, her blue eyes all concern. "Are you alright?"

After that battle, he was far too drained to do anything other than let Mamoru-baka run his mouth. "Usagi, you _promised_."

She pressed her lips together in response, chin sticking out in annoyance. "I didn't promise to sit up there and watch you die! That thing was going to _kill you_."

"It would have killed you, too," he countered.

She shrugged offhandedly. "Well, it didn't. You were here to save me. But there should be someone to save _you_ , too. Don't you have any friends?"

He couldn't help the little smile that formed on his lips as he recalled her plea from earlier. _'…my friend, Chiba Mamoru.'_

"Yes, I have friends, you little baka. But I have superpowers and they don't, so I'm the one who fights evil."

She frowned. "That doesn't seem fair. You shouldn't have to do something like this alone."

He reached his bare hand out, tangling his fingers with hers. "Life is rarely fair. We do the best with what we have."

Her eyes snapped to his, then she looked down at their hands with a hard swallow. "Still. You need a sidekick or something. Someone to help you out when you get in trouble."

He snorted, his fingers unconsciously tightening around hers. "I'll think about it."

She tilted her head and smirked lightly at him. "Sometimes, you just need a distraction, right? I have pretty good aim-"

" _No_." The word burst out, and she pouted. "It… it sounds glamourous," he said after a moment. "But really, Usagi. This life is terrifying and exhausting. You have to watch people get hurt right in front of you, and you can't always do anything to stop it. It hurts, both your body and your soul. You don't want this."

Her chin jutted out again as she looked back up at him, her eyebrows furrowed in determination. "But someone's got to do it. You keep saving me; I want to help you."

His heart squeezed painfully in his chest, and he reached gloved fingertips out to brush her jawline. "You already have. More than you know."

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and he reached down to awkwardly pat the back of her hand before drawing both of his own hands back into his lap.

Clearing his throat, his cheeks also taking on a slight rose hue, he said "Anyway. You, uh. You should get back to your friends, right?"

She blinked, jerking back to a stand in the blink of an eye. "Oh my god! I completely forgot!"

He chuckled, expecting Hurricane Usagi to dash back to the group in her customary whirlwind. He was therefore surprised when she paused, still next to him. "Are you… gonna be okay by yourself?"

"Oh, yeah. I heal fast," he lied. But she looked satisfied with this, and a moment later she was gone, leaving him with only the chirping of birds and the slight rustle of the breeze through the petals of the trees.

Once he was confident she was really gone, he staggered to his feet and allowed the garb of Tuxedo Mask to soften back into the white button-up and jeans he had agonized over the night before.

Without the enhanced aura of Tuxedo Mask, he very nearly collapsed to his knees again. Pain wracked his body and his chest heaved once, twice, as he wrestled his stomach back under control.

Once he felt something like normal again, he glanced down at himself, glad that his long sleeves hid the lacerations Leshy had left in Tuxedo Mask's arm. A quick inspection told him that there was no visible evidence of his tussle with the Cardian, though from the way his face and chest ached, he suspected he would have some nasty bruises tomorrow morning.

Reasonably satisfied, he turned and made his way back in the direction of the picnic spread, with each new step working to school the limp from his stride.

His walk appeared almost ordinary by the time he emerged from the trees and paused to watch the cluster of teens milling about atop the green and purple picnic tarps. Everyone but Seijuro was standing, and though he couldn't make out distinct words, he could clearly hear the agitation in Usagi's voice.

Suddenly, Natsumi threw her hand up into the air and cried out in a loud, clear voice: "Mamoru-kun, there you are!" Six heads all turned in unison as he carefully closed the rest of the gap to join them.

Usagi _whirled_ to face him, arms akimbo and her face pinched in irritation and the slightest hint of anxiety. "Baka! Where have you been? You can't just wander off like that! If you actually _had_ friends, you would know that people worry when you disappear without warning!"

In the face of her annoyance, her carefully concealed concern, his heart did a flip in his chest. She could snipe at him all she wanted, but Tuxedo Mask knew the truth now. _He did have friends, and she was one of them._

"Sorry, Usagi-san," he apologized, this new knowledge revitalizing him and giving him the confidence to try something he normally would never have dared.

Gingerly, careful not to agitate his injuries and worry her further, he dropped to one knee beside his picnic basket. With his best dramatic flourish, he pulled the box of Hanami Dango from its depths.

He held it out to her, palms flat and his head slightly bowed in supplication. "Please accept my deepest apologies for worrying you."

Her face pulled into a quizzical half-frown as she took the box from him and opened it, revealing the rounded tricolor dumplings.

"I know how fond you are of odango," he said with a roguish wink as he rose back to his feet.

Her jaw dropped open, and she gaped at him for a moment before she released a small, disbelieving snort. Shoulders rounding the tiniest bit, she began to giggle before plucking one of the sticks from the box and popping the whole thing into her mouth. Shaking her head, a small smile bloomed across her face and she wagged the now-empty stick at his face reproachfully. "You're something else, did you know that?"

Bruised, battered, and standing in front of the woman he loved, the stupid Usagi-induced grin that Tuxedo Mask had managed to fight off earlier finally broke through Mamoru's defenses. "Yeah," he agreed, eyes soft as he watched her laugh. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really loved how many people have reached out to me to say that they like my interpretation of Mamoru! (Thank you, I like him too!)
> 
> Something I've found interesting about this is that a lot of people have also mentioned that they wish Anime!Mamoru was more like this or that they're glad I'm drawing on the manga for his characterization.
> 
> Because I decided to set this story in Makaiju, which is anime-only, I'm actually only using things that were confirmed as canon at some point in the original anime for this story (seriously, you do not want to know how many hours I spent figuring out if Anime!Mamoru has an alarm clock (yes) or if he wears a wristwatch (no)).
> 
> So, with that in mind, my Mamoru is actually entirely based on Anime!Mamoru (believe it or not)! Primarily season 1's mouthy Mamoru-baka, breakup-arc's overprotective and neurotic Mamo-chan, and Crystal Tokyo's thinks-he-knows-best Kendy – but together, they make up all the complicated, complex parts that make him the silly boy we know and love.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, everybody, and I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter!


	5. The Targeted Kindergarteners: Sailor V Reappears!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to RogueAlly/AllyUnabridged, whose wonderful ['Just Can't Forget You'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261500/chapters/63927316) inspired me to make a very minor addition to this chapter.
> 
> Thank you always to FloraOne for her unending support and positivity and for beta-ing this chapter.
> 
> Finally, thanks to all of y'all for reading and reviewing! I love hearing your thoughts, and I hope you like this new chapter!! 

Things were oddly quiet in the days immediately following the Cherry Blossom Festival, which was just fine with Mamoru. It gave him plenty of time to hole up in his apartment and wait for the garish purple marks to fade from his face and ribs. The low-key anxiety that came with trusting Luna to get in touch if Usagi needed him never fully dissipated, but with no leads and a decent recovery time ahead, it was really his only option.

Unfortunately, his other obligations outside of fighting evil in Sailor Moon's stead hadn't stopped just because he'd been kicked around by a particularly nasty Cardian; even if he could avoid showing up at the Crown until his wounds healed, he still had to report for his classes at Keio.

So far, hunching in the back of the lecture halls had allowed him to escape any questioning about his unusual injuries from his professors, and, aside from his study group, he hadn't yet made any friends in the program who might make nosy inquiries.

In his final class of the day, Takahashi-sensei recommended a supplemental book on how physiological processes affect health and disease; as he walked back to his apartment from the campus, he decided to duck into his favorite bookstore and pick up a copy.

Half an hour later, he finally emerged from the stacks in the back of the store, _Anatomy Physiology to Understand the Mechanism of Disease and Health_ in hand and a stack of several other discarded textbooks he'd perused through stacked on one of the return shelves.

He navigated his way through the maze of shelves on the main floor towards the checkout at the front of the store, ready to go home and make himself a late lunch. _Or possibly an early dinner..._

As he crossed a narrow aisle between two large bookshelves, however, he froze when the sunlight through the window behind him refracted off dazzling golden hair. Though he often thought he saw her out of the corner of his eye, this time there was no mistaking the blue uniform or the distinct hairstyle.

"U…Usagi, what are you…?" He managed to close his lips around ' _doing here.'_

She jerked her gaze up and away from the bookshelf she'd been perusing, her eyes owlish as she grabbed hold of the shelf. "Mamo- Hi! I haven't seen you in a few days."

"Uh… yeah, you either." _She had noticed?_

He glanced to the shelf that her fingers had curled around, and she smiled sheepishly. "I'm only looking at books with pictures," she confessed, eyes flicking to the heavy book in his hand. "You're probably buying something I couldn't even read the Kanji in."

He shrugged, offhandedly holding up _Anatomy Physiology to Understand the Mechanism of Disease and Health_. "It's a book for school," he said. "Honestly, whatever you're reading is probably more interesting."

Her lips curved up and she tilted her head to the side. "Aren't you supposed to call me Odango Atama and tell me that if I bothered to study occasionally, I wouldn't fail so many tests?"

"Usagi-san, I…" His mouth went dry around the apology, and he dropped his focus to the ugly grey linoleum. When he looked up again and met her eyes, however, he was surprised to find only amusement, not hurt.

"It's fine, Mamoru-san," she said, and his heartbeat stuttered in his chest. She pulled a volume from the shelf and took a few strides to join him in the main aisle. "Though I- Wait, what happened to your face?!"

He winced. The big bruise left from Leshy's backhand had faded to a mottled greenish-grey, but as it stretched from his cheekbone to his chin, it was still quite noticeable at point-blank range.

"Mamoru-san, you didn't say…" Her eyebrows furrowed as she jammed the book up into her armpit and rose to her tiptoes, cupping his head in her hands and pulling his face down to her eye level.

He froze like a statue, his eyes going wide as his pulse began to hammer under the press of her palms. _**Nothing**_ _could have prepared him for this._ His mouth was bone-dry and he managed to refocus his gaze to meet hers, only to find that her attention was centered entirely on the mark on his cheek.

Usagi's face was scrunched in annoyance when she finally looked into his eyes again, her inspection complete. "Tuxedo Mask said he kept you safe!" she said indignantly.

Mamoru's heart was beating double-time in his chest. She was so close that he could feel her every breath against his cheek, and each exhale was melting his insides a little more.

"It's nothing, Usagi. Usagi-san. It, uh, looks worse than it is, really."

She released her hold on his ears, and he straightened quickly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. She crossed her arms, running her tongue over her teeth with a scowl. "Maybe Seijuro-kun is right about him…" she muttered, half-under-her-breath, and it was Mamoru's turn to frown.

"Seijuro-san is right about who?"

"Seijuro-kun thinks that the Tuxedo Mask persona is just a front to hit on gullible young girls. I told him that that can't be true, but if he left you to get hurt…" As she spoke, Mamoru's fingers curled into a fist.

After the festival, he'd been forced to reevaluate some of his conclusions about Seijuro, since the younger boy didn't appear to have left the picnic area the entire time that Tuxedo Mask was facing down against Leshy. But alien or not, he still really, _really_ hated that guy.

"No, he… if Tuxedo Mask hadn't been in the park that day I don't know what would have happened." Mamoru spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully to ensure that none of them were technically a lie. "He rescued me from that Cardian and as soon as he was sure I was safe, he went chasing after it. He wanted to protect everybody, so he didn't have too much time to waste on me. And really, Usagi-san. I'm okay, I promise."

As he spoke, Usagi's confrontational posture slowly began to thaw. "Well… good," she said. After a moment of prolonged silence between them, she gestured to the book in his hand again. "You probably need to check out, right?"

He shrugged vaguely. As long as she was willing to stand and chat with him, there was nowhere he'd rather be. "I'm not really in a hurry," he said. "What about you, are you just browsing, or are you buying?"

"Oh… I was mostly browsing, but I did want to get the new _Sailor V_ ," she said, holding up the manga she'd pulled from the shelf early in their conversation – an illustration of a masked Aino Minako winked at them from the cover.

"Well, did _you_ need to check out?"

She brushed a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear. "Um, I guess so." She made no effort to move towards the front of the store.

"I can…" He cleared his throat, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the front of the store. "I can let you get back to browsing, if you want."

"Oh, no, I'm pretty much done," she said, tugging on one golden streamer of hair.

There was a hushed moment as he tried to process this unprecedented behavior, this… lingering. Normally, Usagi seemed to want to get away from him as fast as possible, but then again, they were friends now.

He'd never tried to be friends with a girl he was in love with before. Someone needed to write a rulebook.

"Do you want to check out together?" he asked as the pause began to stretch into uncomfortable, and she smiled widely before sweeping past him and toward the registers.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, he followed a few steps behind her, absently noting the familiar design of the keychain that dangled from her purse and jingled with each step she took.

As they stepped into the checkout queue, he couldn't entirely resist giving in to that jackass possessive part of him. "So… you're a fan of Tuxedo Mask, then?"

"What?" A glorious shade of pink blossomed over her face, and he had to resist the urge to break out into a silly victory dance, like an American football player who had just scored a touchdown. "How did you…?"

Even using all his carefully honed skills in emotional suppression, the slightest self-satisfied smirk bled through. "You have his keychain on your bag."

"Oh!" She jerked her attention from him and to her purse, reaching down to touch the little metal chibi-Mask with tender fingers. "Yeah, I guess… You could say I'm a fan. He saved my life. A couple times, actually." Her eyes went soft as she bit her bottom lip.

"He's so brave. Monsters show up, and he's just… there, sweeping people out of danger and fighting against them like it's nothing, even though he knows the monsters want to kill him, too." She trailed off, shifting from one foot to the other. "…But you probably know all that, I mean, you've seen him in action."

Mesmerized by the flush of her cheeks – bubblegum pink from _thinking about him_ – Mamoru managed to stammer out "Only for a few seconds. It sounds like you've… spent some time getting to know him."

Her cheeks darkened and her smile was shy. "Only once, really. At the Hanami festival, when he killed that monster? We talked for a few minutes after. He said… he said that he fights monsters because he's the one with superpowers. I don't think he wants other people to have to do it, even though it's not fair that _he_ has to do it…" She trailed off again, this time staring down at the book she held in her hands. After a beat, she tilted her head up to look at Mamoru. "I wish Sailor V was real," she said quietly. "I think she and Tuxedo Mask would be a good team, and then he wouldn't be all alone."

It was at that moment that the clerk waved him forward, and Mamoru was spared having to respond to that statement.

Once his purchase was complete, he loitered by the front doors of the bookstore, watching as the clerk wrapped up Usagi's manga and presented it to her with a little bow. She bowed back and grabbed her purchase before half-jogging over to join Mamoru in the entranceway.

While she'd been checking out, he'd cast about desperately and come up with what he believed to be a foolproof way to change the subject away from Sailor V.

"Hey, Usagi-san… if you're not busy right now, do you want to maybe grab some ice cream?" His practiced, casual tone belied the rampant beating of his heart.

She blinked a few times. "You want to… get ice cream with me?"

"Sure, I mean… that's something friends do, right?"

She blinked once more, and then her entire demeanor morphed from confusion to joy. "Yeah, okay!" she agreed, her smile pure light, and his pounding heart nearly seized at the expression on her face.

His fingers flexed as he fought the impulse to take her hand in his. Instead, he shifted his shopping bag to the hand between them and pushed the door open with the other, stepping out into the sunshine next to Usagi.

Her grin was big as her eyes flicked along the street signs. "Do you want to go to Baskin Robbins? Or there's Eddy's…"

He shook his head. He wasn't wasting what would probably be his only chance to take Usagi for ice cream on an unmemorable franchise that she could get any old day. "Do you mind walking a little bit?" he asked. "There's a stand in Arisugawa-No-Miya park that I like, but it's not as close."

"I don't mind," she said, and then her smile faded ever-so-slightly. "Are you sure you don't mind? The longer you spend with me, the more likely it is I'll trip over my own feet or walk into a pole or hit you with something."

He shook his head, burying his hands in his pockets with a chuckle. "It's a hazard I accepted when I asked you to spend time with me."

They began their walk in a companionable silence, which surprised Mamoru. He'd rarely known Usagi to be quiet for more than a moment or two, so he kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye to make sure nothing was wrong with her. Though Usagi didn't appear to be upset, unease was coalescing in the back of his mind, leaving an unpleasant twinge in its wake.

It was only once Usagi began to fill the still air with musings about the ice cream flavor she would get in the park – chocolate, double chocolate, or maybe strawberry with chocolate – that he realized that his rising sense of discomfort had nothing at all to do with Usagi. _Oh, god damn it_.

He cleared his throat, interrupting her, and she blinked sky-blue eyes at him.

"I…" Swallowing hard, he tried to find the right words to explain that this was the last thing he wanted. "Usagi-san, I'm so sorry. I actually… I forgot I have to meet my study group in ten minutes. We have a big test on Monday."

Her face visibly fell, and he had never hated himself more than he did in that moment. _Well, no, that wasn't true._

"I'm really sorry. Can we rain-check on the ice cream?"

She scrunched her eyes and shook her head. "It's okay, Mamoru-san. Don't worry about it."

"No, I… Usagi-san, I really did…"

She held up a hand, her small smile seemingly hollow after the megawatt one she'd flashed him only moments before. "Really. It's fine. You have somewhere to be."

He wanted to protest again, to lie and tell her that the fake-test was sixty percent of his final grade or he wouldn't be leaving her, that more than anything else in this world he wanted to buy her ice cream and then stroll down the street and talk with her as she ate it. But the expression on her face was unmistakable, even to a socially challenged orphan – more explanations wouldn't help his case.

Instead of engaging in further verbal fumbling, he turned tail and brusquely headed away from Juuban-dori, pausing for a fraction of a second to glance over his shoulder. He caught sight of her, standing on the sidewalk and staring after him with an almost imperceptible tinge of hurt in her eyes – or maybe that was just his wishful heart playing tricks on him.

Turning again, ears burning, he quickened his pace and disappeared around the corner.

Once out of sight, his head throbbed, and he scrunched his eyes closed, leaning back against the nearest wall. Though he could feel the overwhelming swell of evil energy, without Sailor Moon in play he was at a loss for how to narrow in on the source. All the Cardians up 'til now had appeared in convenient proximity to him or to Usagi; even with all his obsessive tracking, he hadn't yet managed to systematically find and corner a Cardian on his own.

He ran his hand down his face with a small groan before turning his gaze up to the fuzzy white clouds traversing the sky. He had no idea where to start.

 _Maybe_ , his traitorous conscience whispered, _it would have been better to just stay with Usagi…_

_Beep, beep, beep._

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at the strange, tinny sound ringing in his ears.

_Beep, beep, beep._

His eyes widened as he realized the persistent noise wasn't in his ears at all; it was coming from his pants' pocket.

_Beep, beep, beep._

Heart pounding, he fumbled the hand-held communicator out of his pocket, recalling Luna's promise. But he'd only _just left_ Usagi; how could something have happened to her already?

His clumsy fingers finally pulled the device free, jamming frantically at the star-shaped buttons. The bubble in the top right corner of the communicator lit up, revealing a blonde-haired woman with a red bow atop her head and fire in her blue eyes.

"Excuse _you_ , Chiba Mamoru, but you have SOME NERVE telling Artemis not to wake me up!"

* * *

"It is ridiculous, and frankly a little insulting, that the only spare house-slippers you own are five sizes too big for me. What, is your apartment a no-girls-allowed zone?"

"Of course not, it's just the only person who ever comes over here is Motoki!" Mamoru retorted, glaring at the blonde as she plopped into the chair across the coffee table from him, her feet barely filling Motoki's blue guest slippers and her arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

"Well, that just isn't the case anymore, now is it?" Minako fired back with a toss of her long hair.

"Now that I'm awake, I'm going to be over here a lot, so you had better buy some new slippers!"

Mamoru turned to stare accusingly at Artemis, who was seated next to Luna on the couch; Artemis glared right back at him. "Don't look at me!" His voice had a distinct note of defensiveness, and Minako cleared her throat loudly to draw attention back to herself.

"It wasn't Artemis, no thanks to you. I was on the bus with the kids after my gig at the kindergarten, and then Gigaros attacked us. Artemis didn't even show up until after I was already transformed and fighting the thing. But, speaking of Artemis, he filled me in on what's been happening for the last month, and you had better have a good explanation for just who exactly it was that died and appointed Chiba Mamoru as the Great Spokesperson of Who Gets to Be Reawakened and Who Doesn't!"

"Usagi did," Mamoru snapped. "She died wishing for us to all have normal lives. Or do you not remember that part?"

She let out an indignant huff, reaching across the table to jab a finger at his chest. "You know what I remember, Chiba? _I died, too._ I died for _Usagi_ , and for the _mission_. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. So don't you _dare_ act like you had any business 'deciding' what was right for me!"

He set his jaw, unwilling to concede that she had a point.

Minako, meanwhile, turned to the cats. "Now, when we wake the other girls-"

"No!"

"No?!" She whirled back on him, throwing up her hands. "I'm sorry, did we not _just establish_ that this is not your call?"

Pressing his lips together so hard they turned white, he managed to grit out. "Minako-san, you woke up on your own – maybe some part of you felt the drive to protect Usagi over whatever you were pursuing as a civilian? But the other girls are living their lives. Ami-san is even applying to medical programs out of the country. This is what Usagi _wanted_ , the chance for you all to have normal lives, to pursue your dreams without having to fight evil. We don't have the right to take that away on the assumption that it's what the others would want."

Minako crossed her arms again, directing a contemptuous look at Mamoru. "I call bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me: I call bullshit! I think you _like_ being in the spotlight for once. I think you're enjoying the opportunity to play the hero and get some attention of your own rather than just being the dashing sidekick. And I think you're afraid that if all four of us are active again, you'll be as useless as a porthole on a submarine."

Mamoru cupped his temples with one hand. "Minako-san, in the future please try to think, rather than just stringing together the first set of nonsensical thoughts that come to your mind."

The blonde released another indignant huff, holding up a finger. "One: Rude. Two: If you really cared about Usagi's safety, you'd want all four of us around. I killed that Cardian in just two attacks, you're _still bruised_ from more than a week ago!"

Stung, Mamoru turned and grabbed his pile of research from the shelving unit next to his bed. "You think I don't care about her safety?" he demanded, voice cold as he threw the papers onto the table so they fanned out between them. "You think I'm not glad you woke up on your own? That now I don't have to _do this_ alone?"

Minako began picking up papers from the stack, her frown growing progressively deeper, before she held up the sheet where he'd scribbled out his conclusions linking Seijuro and Ail – now debunked, after that day at the festival.

"What, are you insane, leaving this just lying around? What if Usagi-chan came over here and saw this? She would think you were serial-killer crazy!"

His shoulders hunched forward, and he shot back "Why would Usagi ever come over to my apartment?"

"Well I'm sure _I_ don't know – it's not like you have slippers for her to wear or have made any effort _at all_ to make this an Usagi-friendly space – but if she did, is that really the impression you want her to get?"

 _No_. The thought was a guilty one as his brain immediately sought ideas for things he could do that might make Usagi comfortable in his home. And then just as quickly shamed him for even considering that Usagi might ever want to make an appearance within his four walls.

He wasn't able to dwell for long, though, before Minako smacked her small pile of papers back down on the coffee table. "Okay, _fine_. I'll admit that you do care about her safety. But you're still a moron and obviously you can't keep this stuff here."

He leveled an impassive look at the grumbling blonde for a long moment, his own expression dour. "Where, pray tell, do you propose I keep it, then?"

Minako turned her head away from him, shrugging conspiratorially at the cats instead. "Well, I _would_ suggest at Ami-chan's, but seeing how you have that whole irrational thing where you're opposed to the idea of reawakening Usagi or any of the other senshi… I guess I can take it for now."

His eyebrow arched up. "'For now?'" he repeated, rapping his fingers against the low table. "Minako-san, you're not planning to reawaken them anyway the second my back is turned, are you?"

"Of course not! You said they all deserve the chance to choose, right? And that you'll respect whatever it is that _they_ decide?"

"Yes…?" Mamoru agreed tentatively, and Minako crossed her arms with a smug grin.

"Well, I know the other Senshi like the top of my foot. You mark my words, Chiba Mamoru, every one of them, including Usagi-chan, will reawaken on their own. Just you wait and see."

Mamoru pressed his first two fingers against the spot between his eyebrows, hoping to appease his new headache; this one had nothing to do with a Cardian.

Even if he was relieved that he wasn't alone anymore, he suspected that perhaps Usagi may have been being overgenerous when she had theorized that Sailor V and Tuxedo Mask would make a good team.

* * *

"Hey Mamoru, it's been a while." Motoki looked up from wiping down the arcade counter with a chipper grin as Mamoru slid onto a stool in front of him the next afternoon.

"Yeah, school was kicking my butt for a few days there," he responded, smiling gratefully as Motoki set a mug down in front of him and filled it with coffee. After he'd run into Usagi in the bookstore, his motive for laying low had kind of evaporated.

"Oh man, what happened to your face?" Motoki asked, gesturing at his own cheek.

Mamoru picked up the coffee cup, keeping his face as deadpan as he was able. "Would you believe that I'm a superhero and I got hurt fighting evil?"

Motoki snorted, draping the checked towel over his shoulder. "Alright, Mamoru, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Calling upon his most condescending smirk, he shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "Worth a shot," he said, setting the cup back down on the countertop.

The familiar 'whoosh' of the arcade doors sounded behind him, followed immediately by the chime of his favorite of her giggles. "Ah, hey Usagi-chan!" Motoki called, holding his hand up over his head. "Who's your new friend?"

Mamoru's stomach sank, and he slouched down, reigning in his impulse to spin in his chair and greet her. Though his innards squirmed with the desire to see her, he wasn't sure he was strong enough to sit and watch Usagi make googly eyes at Seijuro while the other boy slowly poisoned her against Tuxedo Mask.

"Hi Motoki-onii-chan!" Her bright voice chirped. "This is Aino Minako! She goes to Shiba Koen Middle School."

Now he swiveled, mouth agape. Sure enough, the tall blonde stood next to Usagi, eyeing Motoki with barely concealed interest before shooting Mamoru a _very_ self-satisfied expression.

Before he could think, he'd surged off the stool, grabbed Minako by the elbow, and dragged her away from Usagi.

" _What are you doing?_ " he hissed, pulling her back towards the sliding doors of the Crown.

" _I'm_ making a friend. What are _you_ doing? What is _Usagi-chan_ going to think, watching you steal her new friend away without saying a word to her first?"

He released Minako's arm like it had burned him, and she rolled her eyes.

"Idiot." Though she was clearly annoyed, the word carried surprisingly little malice.

Mamoru turned back to find Usagi glancing between him and Minako, obviously confused and with that same tinge of maybe-hurt from the day before in her eyes.

"Do you two know each other?" she asked after a measured pause.

"Not well," Minako said airily, canting out a hip and arching an eyebrow at Mamoru. "Chiba-san and I worked together briefly, right?"

"Uh, right, at TV Ashita." Minako's eyes scrunched shut and, for a fraction of a second, Mamoru would have sworn she wanted to hit herself in the face.

" _Anyway_ ," Minako took a large step away from him and towards Usagi. "Usagi-chan, you promised to show me your mad Sailor V skills! I bet I can beat your high score!"

The strange expression melted away, and Usagi smiled at her new friend. "No way!" she countered. "I have the top score, you won't beat me!" Usagi followed after Minako, Mamoru apparently forgotten. He tried to swallow away his discomfort, the feeling that he'd just accidentally undone whatever tentative progress he'd earned with her.

As the two girls settled in front of the arcade machine, Usagi in the seat mashing buttons and Minako leaning over her shoulder to watch the little Sailor V sprite dodge enemies, Mamoru dejectedly returned to his stool.

Motoki was pretending to polish a glass while actually watching the two blondes, but when Mamoru resumed his seat Motoki threw him a meaningful look. "Something you wanted to tell me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he muttered before taking a sip of his rapidly cooling coffee.

"C'mon, Mamoru, I've never seen you react like that to a girl before. Something's going on."

He shook his head, making a face into his mug. "It's really not what you think, Motoki."

Motoki brushed his hands together, clearly disbelieving. "Fine, fine. But let me know if you change your mind and want me to send a milkshake over to her or something."

Mamoru's eyes went wide, and he gawked at Motoki with something like awe. "Yes! A chocolate milkshake!" He shook his head at the counter, unable to suppress his sudden swell of irritation. _Why didn't he think of that himself?_

"Motoki, could you send Usagi a milkshake from me?"

Motoki's face went from disbelieving to flat incredulous. " _Usagi-chan?_ Not Aino-san? And since when do you call her 'Usagi,' anyway?"

"It's kind of a long story. But can you do it for me?"

Motoki took a deep breath in through his nose, then leaned his hands against the counter and dropped his voice low. "Mamoru, I'm really not trying to get caught up in you and Usagi-chan's private war."

With a quiet deliberation, Mamoru spun the coffee cup in his fingers. "I promise you, Motoki, this is not any kind of prank. I just thought Usagi, er, Usagi-san might like a milkshake today. You don't even have to tell her it's from me if you don't want to."

Motoki continued to stare at Mamoru suspiciously, but after a moment's hesitation he pulled open the chest freezer and began scooping chocolate ice cream into a glass. In no time at all, the blender was whirring, and Mamoru pressed his lips together, a sudden thought occurring to him.

"Motoki… do you have any fresh strawberries today? Do you think you could put one on top?"

Motoki glanced up from pouring the frothy chocolate into the glass to blink hazel eyes at Mamoru. "Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"

"I can't be nice?"

"Historically, no, not to Usagi-chan."

He blew out a small breath as he watched Motoki expertly top the shake with a ribbon of fresh whipped cream and slide a straw into the confection. "Okay, forget the strawberry."

But Motoki pulled a plump red strawberry from the fruit tray, deftly slicing into the fruit before using it to garnish the rim of the glass. "No, she'll love it. It's just weird that you would know that, or care."

Feeling a bit cowed by that comment, Mamoru ducked his head, using his peripheral vision to watch Motoki as the blonde boy made his way out from behind the counter and over to the arcade machine where Usagi and Minako were chattering.

As Motoki handed Usagi the shake, her cheeks took on a faint pink hue. Minako threw Mamoru a look across the arcade that he'd almost call 'approving,' but he forgot to worry about what Minako thought when the corners of Usagi's lips curled up.

Her eyes met his, and as he stared stupidly at her, her shy smile broadened into a full grin; then she popped the whole strawberry into her mouth.

Minako rolled her eyes with a broad smirk and gently elbowed Usagi out of the way, seizing control of the game. Usagi spluttered indignantly and jumped to her feet, shake in hand, before she began whining that she wasn't done with her turn yet.

Mamoru reached down and pulled his new book from his schoolbag, planning to try to get some reading in. As he closed the satchel, he glanced up again and caught Usagi gazing back at him. His heart stuttered in his chest – she had clearly sought him out – and he watched her momentarily bite her lower lip.

'Thanks,' she mouthed, and he had to remind himself what breathing was supposed to feel like.

'Anytime,' he mouthed back, and watched her nose crinkle happily before she turned her attention back to Minako and Sailor V.

Her shake disappeared quickly, but the glow in Mamoru's chest lingered long after Usagi and Minako had left the arcade and he realized he'd never actually turned a single page of his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL so after my author's note last chapter about how all the chapters have been progressively longer, this one wound up coming out shorter! The good news is that the next chapter is the babysitting episode, so that one is almost certainly going to turn out obnoxiously long!
> 
> Also, as an important note for those of you who are Stateside: Today (October 5th) is the last day to register to vote in many states. If you are 18+, please, please take five minutes to make sure that you are registered today. This is a critical election for an awful lot of people, and it's really important that we all do our part to make our country better. 


	6. Oh No! Usagi and Mamoru Must Co-Parent for a Weekend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I am super excited to be getting this chapter out to you. My semester is starting to wrap up, so hopefully soon I'll have more time to write?! (I'm excited, but we'll see if the inspiration sticks around when it's not 'competing' with a mountain of readings!)
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone who has commented, reblogged, kudos'd, etc. I am so, so touched and I love hearing from each and every one of you.
> 
> Thank you also, always, to FloraOne, for her relentless positivity and support and for taking the time to Beta my work, often more-or-less at the drop of a hat (despite being busy herself)! I will never be able to thank her enough tbh.
> 
> Now, onwards to babysitting!

Once he accepted that she wasn't just biding her time so she could awaken Sailor Moon the second he wasn't looking, Minako's sudden presence served as an unlikely reassurance. In fact, it noticeably reduced his constant low-level pulsating terror for Usagi's safety.

While any time he spent around the self-proclaimed 'Senshi of Love' was bewildering and left him shaken and with the strong desire to duck and cover, Usagi's half-baked theory turned out to be right – it was nice to have backup.

On a sunny Friday afternoon, nearly a week and a half after Minako had re-befriended Usagi, Mamoru was walking back to his apartment after that day's classes. Wrapped up in a book, he didn't notice the shadowy form of Luna appear on a nearby roof, nor did he catch her hopping her way down to a fence, but he caught on just before she made the leap to his shoulder.

Wrapping her tail loosely around his neck, the cat cut directly to the quick of things.

"Artemis and I have a theory," she said, and Mamoru lowered his book, tilting his head slightly to meet her eyes.

"Do tell," he replied impassively, his steps slowing to a stop as his fingers began idly drumming against the wooden slats of the fence.

"Well, you remember the last Cardian-"

"Only by reputation."

"Mamoru-san, I swear."

He held up a hand in apology. Given that Minako reminded him at every opportunity how he had been 'of absolutely no help with the last Cardian and why, exactly, had he refused to wake her up for so long,' he'd deemed it prudent to deflect any mentions of Gigaros, lest the fiery blonde think he was attempting to steal credit. "My apologies. You were saying?"

Luna's expression was less-than-amused before she pressed on. "You recall that the last Cardian attacked a bus full of Kindergarteners, correct?"

Mamoru nodded, and Luna continued. "Artemis and I have done some research, and we have reason to believe that the enemy might have targeted them because they were young, and especially vibrant. We, uh, suspect that there's a chance…"

She trailed off, and Mamoru followed her gaze down the street, directly into the yard of the Juuban Public Nursery School. "What?! Luna, no."

"They _are_ evil, Mamoru-san!"

"But… babies? You really think they'd attack a bunch of helpless babies?!" He realized it was a stupid question even as the words came out of his mouth. After all, 'helpless' hadn't yet served as the slightest deterrent to this particular enemy.

He continued to stare down the street, disgust rising in him, before he glanced up into Luna's scarlet eyes. "Artemis is briefing Minako-san?"

"He will once she gets home from school," she said. "It would likely be best for us to all have a meeting to discuss further-" Luna abruptly stopped speaking, and Mamoru crinkled his nose slightly in confusion before he heard a familiar voice coming from down the street behind him.

"Mamoru-san!" chirruped Usagi as she dashed up behind him, "I thought that was you!"

Her voice was always happy, but his beating heart wanted to convince him that today she sounded almost delighted. Shaking the hopeful thought from his mind, he turned to take in her bright smile, her cheeks rosy from her jog.

"Good afternoon, Usagi-san," he said politely, then watched as her eyes trained to the left of his face and her eyebrows drew together.

"Luna!" she chastised, rising to her tippy-toes so she could retrieve her cat from Mamoru's shoulder.

As she grabbed Luna, her fingers brushed against the skin of his throat and he stiffened with a sharp inhale. His eyes went wide, but Usagi was clucking over her pet and not paying the slightest bit of attention to him.

Throwing the feline over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes (Luna let out the slightest of undignified squawks), Usagi turned her full attention to Mamoru again.

"Okay, _what_ is going on? Are you sneaking her treats or what?"

"What do you mean, Usagi-san?"

She ran a hand along the back of the now-purring cat draped across her own shoulder. "I just don't get why she likes you so much."

He couldn't quite suppress the smirk. "Good judge of character," he joked. "It's too bad her owner doesn't possess the same quality." His face froze when he realized his overstep, but to his enormous relief, Usagi let out a guffaw.

"Yeah, _okay_ ," she said with an overexaggerated eyeroll before grinning at him. "I still feel like I should make you turn out your pockets, juuust in case."

Snorting, he reached down to pull his wallet from his pants pocket. "Nothing out of the ordinary here," he reported, flipping the billfold open to reveal his student ID, a handful of yen, and his motorcycle license.

"No way!" she cried, snatching the leather wallet from his hand and staring intently at it. "You drive a motorcycle?! Why have I never seen you drive a motorcycle?"

He chuckled, reaching out to reclaim his wallet. "I can't drive a car for at least three more months. What else would I drive?"

The look on her face was unfamiliar as her fingers released the wallet; a strange, sedate contrast to her effervescence from only moments before. "…I mean, I take the train. Or I walk," she mumbled.

He shrugged, but he didn't have the opportunity to point out that she wasn't yet old enough to get even a motorcycle license – instead, both teens jerked in horror as a shadowy figure appeared in the sky above them and blocked out the sun.

"Amaderasu!" screamed the figure, and Mamoru's fingers curled into Usagi's shoulder without his awareness, pushing her behind him.

They watched in horror as the Cardian trailed thin tendrils down into the yard of the daycare, entwining toddlers and staff members alike in her terrible grip. All across the yard, adults collapsed to the ground with cries of pain, and the infants released disconcerting wails before slipping into unconsciousness.

"Usagi," Mamoru bellowed, his eyes wild as he whirled to look at her. "Usagi, we have to go!"

"No, we have to try to help!"

"We can't help!" he countered. "We need to go! Let Tuxedo Mask take care of this!"

She pressed her lips together and released a cry of frustration.

Mamoru's mind was whirring a mile a minute, planning. Once he'd gotten Usagi to safety, he could double back. Call for Venus's help. Attack the Cardian – this one could fly, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it – and then he'd… he'd…

But the bright sunshine was beating down on them again, and the monster had vanished from the sky. He didn't even have a chance to try to restrain her; Usagi bolted past him, running full-tilt into the yard to check on the members of the daycare.

As he dashed after her, there was the wailing sound of an ambulance siren, and suddenly Mizuno Ami was standing next to the gates of the daycare, exchanging exclamations with Usagi.

Everything was a blur of noise and panic and paramedics, Usagi's horrified face burned into his memory, and the next thing Mamoru knew, he was standing next to Ami and Usagi in the emergency room of the Nakamura Clinic, facing a bassinet that held a squirming baby.

"The neonatal intensive care unit is completely overwhelmed," Ami was saying. "With fifty new patients, all needing extensive care and observation, there's no one to look after Manami-chan. A healthy baby has completely different needs than a sick one, and the nursing staff doesn't have the time or energy to do both. Manami-chan's father is out of the country, too, so with her mother in intensive care for the next few days, there's no one to look after her."

"I'll take care of her," Mamoru said, then jerked his head to the side to look at Usagi. She was gaping right back, having just said the exact same words.

Ami arched an eyebrow, and Mamoru spoke up again. "I'll take care of her," he repeated. "Usagi-san, you can't skip school. But I can miss a couple lectures and get the notes later."

"Are you sure, Mamoru-san? Taking care of a baby is a really big responsibility…" Ami cautioned, but Mamoru nodded, his forehead creased with certainty.

"Yeah, I can do it," he reassured her, digging his hands into his pockets. "Nobody should be left all alone in a hospital. But," He cleared his throat and met Usagi's eyes. "I'm not sure if I can do it alone. Will you help me?"

His heart was in his throat asking, but it swooped all the way to his belly when her face lit up.

* * *

Turning around to face the closing elevator doors while Usagi gently wheeled the baby's stroller forwards and backwards next to him, it finally hit Mamoru that Tsukino Usagi was about to enter his apartment for the first time. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly questioned the wisdom of this decision.

Frantically, he ran through a mental checklist – mercifully, he'd long since developed the habit of dumping all of his dirty clothing in the bathroom hamper, and his day always felt off if he didn't make his bed, but he couldn't remember if he'd washed his dishes that morning. He glanced at her, fiddling with the strap of Manami's green diaper bag, and found her grinning and leaning over the stroller, making silly upside-down faces at the infant.

His lips quirked as he watched her, and his panic ebbed. _Even if he didn't, she probably wouldn't notice, anyway._

She looked up to find him watching her, and her face froze in a peculiar expression before smoothing into normal. "What?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing." His fingers curled around the strap of the bag and he glanced to the floor, listening to the hum of the elevator's machinery. Then, the lift dinged and the doors opened again to reveal the corridor outside his apartment. As she pushed the stroller forward and they stepped out into the hallway, he finally got up his nerve. "I'm just… glad that you're here. You're really good with her."

Her eyes were warmer than he'd ever seen them. "Well, you know, I finally found someone on my intellectual level."

He pressed his lips together to reign in his smile as he unlocked the door to his apartment. "I don't know about that," he said, his voice taking on just the slightest hint of tease. "Manami-chan might speak better English."

She stuck her chin out defiantly. "Shows what you know! She's still too little to talk at all!"

He arched an eyebrow pointedly, resting his hand on the handle of his door, and her jaw dropped as she caught his meaning.

"Mamoru-san! That was mean!"

He laughed, though not unkindly, at her affronted expression. Unlike in their previous encounters, she seemed only mildly put out by his teasing this time. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed, even as she scrunched her nose at him to show her displeasure.

"I'm sorry, Usagi-san. It was such a good opening, I couldn't resist."

She stuck her little pink tongue out at him as he finally pushed the door open, revealing his tiny, pristine-as-always studio apartment. They stepped into the genkan, and Mamoru flicked on the lights.

As Usagi slipped on the orange house slippers he'd bought, Mamoru felt a brief, powerful swell of affection for Minako. That feeling only intensified after Usagi unfastened Manami from the stroller and stepped into the living room. She plopped to the floor between his shelves and coffee table with a giggle, and leaned back to lift the baby over her head with a 'wheee!'

Had Minako not insisted on removing the Cardian research from his home, it would be _directly in Usagi's line of vision_ , and he made a mental note to make curry the next time the Senshi of Venus came over to thank her for her foresight _._

Usagi began 'flying' Manami over her head like an airplane, but after a moment the baby began to hiccup and then to scream. Usagi rolled up to a seat, eyes panicked. "Oh no, what did I do?!"

Mamoru, who had begun unpacking Manami's diaper bag onto the coffee table, shook his head as he set down a container of formula they'd borrowed from the hospital. "Maybe she's hungry. I can prep a bottle for her."

Her eyebrows slightly furrowed, Usagi nodded. "Okay. But how do I…" As Mamoru gathered the necessary things to prepare a baby's bottle, Usagi wrapped the shrieking baby up in her arms, leaning her over her shoulder and bouncing her a few times. Despite her efforts, Manami's wails only increased in pitch. "How do I make her stop crying _now_?"

"Uh…" Mamoru had never taken care of a baby either; his experience with the topic was limited to what he'd observed in the orphanage and what he'd garnered from textbooks on pediatric care. "Why don't you check and make sure she doesn't need a clean diaper while I get the bottle ready? Just in case?"

Nodding again, Usagi spread a throw blanket across Mamoru's bed and set the screaming infant down atop it. Then she rifled through the bag until she found a clean diaper and came rushing back over to the bed.

Mamoru allowed himself to focus entirely on the bottle, confident in Usagi's ability to change a diaper, when an ear-piercing shriek, louder even than Manami's cries, split the room.

He whirled his attention from the kitchen area, looking to the large windows with terror swelling in his soul – _had Amaderasu somehow followed them to his apartment?_ – only to find his arm suddenly glomped onto by a rattled Usagi.

"Ma-Mamoru-san!" she gasped. "Manami-chan… she's a girl, but she has a wee-wee!"

The pounding of his heart quieted back to a normal rhythm, and he cupped his free hand to his face, running his palm up his forehead.

"Usa… Usagi-san, don't scare me like that!" he chastised, carefully extracting his arm from her clutches before wrapping it loosely around her waist. "Here, why don't you finish making the bottle, and I'll change Manami-chan."

She nodded, still looking a bit spooked, and he gently pushed her towards the kitchen counter before making his way back over to his bed. True to Usagi's word, there was a tiny acorn-penis between the baby's legs, and he shook his head fondly over Usagi's panic over such a small thing. _Trust the girl who had no compunctions about throwing her shoes at a rampaging monster to freak out over a baby's genitals._

The diaper Usagi had only half-removed before fleeing the bawling infant was indeed wet, and he carefully replaced it with a clean and dry one. Once he had been changed, Manami calmed and the wailing stopped, and Usagi looked up from the kitchen counter, her cheeks and uniform splattered with drops of formula.

"Oh. I guess she didn't need the bottle after all," she said, her voice disheartened.

"I think it's safe to call Manami-chan a 'he' at this point, Usagi-san," he said, picking up the baby from the bed. "Even if his parents gave him a girl's name, anatomically he's all boy."

"Well, okay. _HE_ didn't need the bottle, then."

Mamoru took a seat on the bed and gave the baby a little rock, watching as his face began to scrunch again.

"Actually, Usagi-san, I think we might still need that bottle. Is it almost ready?"

"Yes!" She snapped-to like a trooper, her attention again entirely centered on getting the formula to the perfect temperature.

It was less than a minute later, Mamoru holding a once-again-screaming Manami, that Usagi returned to the bed, a bottle that even Goldilocks would approve of clutched in one hand.

She passed the bottle to Mamoru, and mercifully the baby accepted it almost instantly, using chubby little hands to hold it in place so he could suckle greedily.

Mamoru carefully watched to make sure he didn't gulp down any excess air, and tossed a towel over his shoulder as the baby reached the dregs of the bottle.

Manami seemed to lose interest in the bottle just before Mamoru would have had to take it from him and ask Usagi to prepare another, and so he was grateful for the serendipitous timing.

Passing the nearly empty bottle back to Usagi, who had taken a seat next to him on the bed and was watching him feed Manami with clear interest, he propped the baby up on his towel-covered shoulder with a few bounces, and then patted Manami's small back gently. The belch was loud, or perhaps it was just the proximity to Mamoru's ear, but then the baby seemed to melt bonelessly against him.

Carefully, Mamoru lowered the sleepy baby to rest sideways in his arms, gently rocking as the baby's eyes grew heavy and then closed. He looked up to find Usagi watching him, an expression he couldn't quite identify on her face.

"Wow, Mamoru-san, you're really great with babies. Do you have any of your own?"

The utter absurdity of her question tickled him in just the right spot, and he burst out into raucous laughter. Manami squirmed slightly in his arms, but didn't wake up as he tried to tamp down on his unrestrained snickering.

When he got himself under control again, he turned his head to meet her gaze, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Odango, I am only seventeen, and as you so eloquently put it, no girl wants to come near me with a ten-foot pole. No, I don't have any babies of my own."

Her cheeks went pink. "I thought you'd stopped calling me Odango!" she protested, and he unwrapped an arm from holding Manami, reaching out to gently tug on one of her streamers of hair and pull her face just slightly closer.

"It felt warranted in this case, Usagi-san."

Her cheeks flushed even redder and she looked down to her lap, watching the way she twisted her fingers together. Mamoru's gaze followed hers, suddenly fearful he'd made her uncomfortable. _Stupid._

Pressing his lips together, he held back a sharp exhale, acutely aware of the new tension in the air that he could have sworn hadn't been there earlier.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, pushing the toe of his black-slippered foot into the wooden slats of his floor. "I shouldn't have done that."

She jerked slightly and looked up at him with big blue eyes. "Oh," she said, and his heart positively lurched.

 _Did she sound… disappointed?_ He had no idea what to make of that.

"I just meant…" He curled the fingers of his free hand around the edge of his mattress, trying to find the right words. _I'm completely in love with you and have no idea how to be 'just friends' with you but if that's what you want, I'll figure it out. Please, please don't leave just because I'm an idiot._ "…I'm trying to be better about not teasing you. It's a bad habit, and it's taking me some time to break."

He watched as her shoulders rose in a shrug that was… almost too casual? Everything felt wrong, and he desperately longed to go back to those moments before he'd called her 'Odango,' back when she'd seemed comfortable in his presence.

"It's okay, Mamoru-san," she said, voice steady and comforting, but her eyes shinier than they were supposed to be.

"No!" he cried out. _Dammit, he would not allow himself to ruin this._ "No, Usagi-san, it's not okay. I swear, I will never call you 'Odango' again. You don't like it and we're supposed to be friends, so, as your friend, I won't do it."

He heard the sharp exhale through her nose. And then, her voice came again, quiet still but no longer carrying that mysterious hint of melancholy. "Oh."

And then as quickly as it had begun, the uncomfortable moment was over and Usagi was on her feet, her fingers dancing along the spines of the books on his bedside shelf. "Jeeze, Mamoru-baka," she said, turning to smirk at him. "Don't you own any books that aren't for school?"

He blinked, unsettled by this sudden shift in her attitude. She hadn't called him 'Mamoru-baka' since that day at the VR arcade, nearly a month ago. Then again, he hadn't called her 'Odango Atama' in even longer. _Until tonight_.

She arched an eyebrow, blinking expectantly as the silence stretched between them. "Is that a 'no?'"

"Uh…"

She rolled her eyes, plonking back down onto the bed next to him. "I'm not mad at you," she said. "And you _are_ my friend. I'm not gonna just stop being friends with you because you called me a nickname, okay? So stop being weird about it." She finished her little speech with a decisive nod, and he couldn't help but smile at her assurance.

"No."

"I'm sorry?"

"No, I don't own any books that aren't for school." He reclined slightly on the bed. "I borrow those from the library."

"From the library?" She gasped in mock-horror. "But then you have to take them back!"

"You do realize you can borrow a book more than once, right, Usagi-san?"

She made a face. "Libraries are so _quiet._ And the books are all so boring and grown-up."

He smirked. "Remind me to take you to the Tokyo Metropolitan Central Library with me sometime. They have a whole section that's just manga."

Her eyebrows rose, and he could tell he'd piqued her interest by the way the corner of her mouth curled up. However, she didn't say anything else, and the silence stretched into something comfortable.

It was a peaceful moment, Manami sleeping in his arms and Usagi by his side, and in the quiet his traitor brain began to paint a future just like this, only the sleeping infant was theirs and Usagi lived with him, loved him. A world where this was more than just playing house, and instead was real. _A world where she was his family._

His chest grew tight and he closed his eyes against the sting, the visceral ache of yearning.

But the fantasy ended when her eyes fell on his alarm clock and she leapt from the bed as though it had shocked her. "Oh no!" she cried, and when Mamoru turned his own focus to the clock he discovered that it was nearly 7:30pm already. "I didn't tell my Mama where I was going, she's gonna kill me!"

Mamoru reached for the phone on his shelf, but whirlwind Usagi was already in the genkan, orange slippers kicked to the side as she slipped on her shoes.

"I'm sorry Mamoru-san! I'll see you tomorrow?"

Her eyes, when she looked up at him, were hopeful, and his stomach churned and he couldn't help but smile back at her. "Yeah, tomorrow," he agreed, and then she was out the door before he could even remember that he was going to suggest she call her mom to explain, and then offer her a ride home.

* * *

Babies were, in fact, a lot of work, Mamoru conceded as he poured his first cup of early morning coffee. Manami had woken screaming twice, even though Mamoru's research suggested that babies at this age typically slept through the night. He suspected it was a combination of the new environment and unfamiliar caretakers disrupting what might otherwise be the baby's normal sleep patterns. Regardless of the cause, though, he could already tell he was going to need some extra caffeine to get through this day.

He returned the coffee pot to the stovetop, furrowing his brows when he heard knocking on his front door. Motoki wouldn't come by this early, Minako would certainly not be awake yet… maybe it was Ami, coming by to update him on the situation with Manami's mother.

Satisfied with this conclusion and a bit groggy from his interrupted sleep, he stepped down into the genkan and opened the front door, coffee in hand, to reveal a bright-faced Usagi in a long skirt and denim jacket. She squeaked, her eyes running down his body, and he yelped and slammed the door shut when it suddenly registered that he was still wearing nothing but the tank top and boxers that he'd slept in.

His face and neck _burned_ as he realized his mistake, and he leaned his back against the green-painted wood of the door, raking his fingers into his hair. Coffee slopped from his mug to the floor, and he cursed loudly.

"Usagi-san, I am _so_ sor-"

But then he made out a distinct sound through the door – muffled and quiet, but rapidly growing in volume. Usagi was _giggling_ on the other side of his door.

His mortification only intensified when he realized that the love of his life had just seen him in his underwear and was now _laughing about it_.

Fighting his rising desire to turn into Tuxedo Mask and flee out the nearest window, he numbly stepped out of the genkan and made his way to his wardrobe on unsteady feet, looking to change into something a little more appropriate.

He was slipping on a t-shirt when he heard Usagi's voice, more calm and noticeably more abashed, come muffled through the wooden door. "Mamoru-san, I didn't mean to startle you!" she called. "And I'm sorry for laughing."

Mollified somewhat by her apology, he stepped into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed a dishtowel before coming back to the genkan, this time to crack the door open.

She stood in the corridor, cheeks flushed and her eyes twinkling. "I just didn't know you'd managed to find a tank top in the exact same color as that hideous jacket," she said with a mischievous grin, and he couldn't help his slight snort.

Usagi making fun of his clothes was familiar ground. He knew the rules for how to behave when she started teasing him about his clothing. If anything, he should be relieved that she wasn't traumatized by his inadvertent peep-show.

Even so, a small part of him – the part that half-remembered the feel of Serenity's hurried hands peeling off his clothing – was a little disappointed by how utterly unaffected Usagi was by the whole thing.

But he shook his head and he pulled the door the rest of the way open to let her in, and she smiled when she saw Manami sitting by the coffee table, happily emptying a box of facial tissues. "Good morning, Manami-chan!" she cheered, and then she turned to face Mamoru. "And good morning, Mamoru-san."

He arched an eyebrow, training his face into impassivity. "I didn't expect to see you this early," he said, and the apples of her cheeks turned ever so slightly pink.

"I guessed as much," she said. "But Mama said that babies are a full-time job, and since I couldn't stay last night to help you, I thought I should come as early as possible so you weren't all by yourself. Is that… okay?"

His heart positively melted at her suddenly shy face. "Of course, Usa-Usagi-san." He tossed the dish towel to the floor to cover the still-wet spot where he'd splashed his coffee and gestured with his head for her to come in. "I was planning to go pick up some supplies as soon as I finish my coffee. There wasn't enough stuff in the diaper bag to last the whole weekend, and with the way Manami-chan eats we'll definitely need more formula."

She nodded, slipping back on the orange slippers before sitting cross-legged by the coffee table next to Manami. Mamoru walked into the kitchenette to refill his half-spilled mug, and she frowned. "Wait, you're not only having coffee for breakfast, are you?"

He shrugged, taking a long sip of the bitter brew. "I'm not usually very hungry in the mornings."

Usagi stared blankly at him, as if he'd just said that he could take or leave oxygen, and he sighed, clicking his stove back on.

"I suppose I can whip us up something. What are you in the mood for…?"

* * *

After a quick breakfast of miso soup and rice, they made their way out into the warm morning air. Usagi pushed Manami's stroller while chattering happily about her plans to go to some school festival or other with Ami, Minako, and Makoto in a few weeks.

Though a middle school's impromptu spring festival wasn't exactly interesting to him, Mamoru listened patiently. After all, Usagi was the one talking. That, and the name of the school was vaguely familiar to him, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"So Mamoru-san," her voice was a little tentative, her chatter turning into a short pause. "You said before that you usually do homework on the weekends, right?"

He glanced to her with a confused little nod. "Yeah…?"

"Taking care of Manami-chan, that's not totally throwing your whole world out of whack, is it?"

He shook his head with a smile. "Not really. I have a test next week that I might not do as well on as I normally would, but I think it's worth it to make sure Manami-chan has someone to take care of him."

"Oh. Well…"

"Usagi-chan! Mamoru-san! What are _you two_ doing out so early?" They turned around to find a stunned trio – Makoto, Ami, and Minako – but the surprise didn't last long. Instead, Minako's face rapidly morphed into something triumphant, and Mamoru's stomach dropped; was it too much to ask for a sudden Cardian attack so he'd have an excuse to drag the blonde far, far away from Usagi?

Eyebrows raised and expression saucy, Minako crossed her arms and cocked out a hip. "And with a baby! Are congratulations in order? Usagi-chan, did you have Mamoru's baby?"

Vermillion spread from Usagi's hairline down her face, her neck, and then disappeared under the collar of her jacket. "WHHHHAAAAAATTT? Minako-chan, no, no no!" Her arms were flailing in protest, and if she hadn't been the one pushing Manami's stroller, Mamoru might have conveniently wandered away to escape this nightmare. "I would _never_ have Mamoru's baby! Why would you even ask that?!"

 _Ouch._ It wasn't news, but hearing her say it so baldly still felt like a stab to the gut.

"Usagi-chan, she's just kidding!" Makoto said as Mamoru failed to suppress his flinch, his face taking on a hue similar to Usagi's.

"Yes, Usagi-chan," said Ami's clear voice. "After all, I already told them about what happened at the daycare."

"Yessss," drawled Minako, leaning towards Mamoru pointedly. "Which I thought was _very_ interesting. In fact, it was so interesting, I had to wonder why the first place I heard about it from was _Ami-chan._ "

He blew out a long breath. _Lord, give me strength._ "I guess there's been a lot going on," he said through gritted teeth. "Maybe there just wasn't time for you to hear about it from anyone else."

Minako flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder. "Well, as long as that's all it is. I'd _hate_ to think I didn't hear about it because someone thought it wasn't _important_ for me to know."

"Uh, guys?"

Mamoru and Minako jolted out of coded-superhero-bickering to find one pair of green eyes and three pairs of blue all staring at them intently.

Mamoru flushed all over again while Minako shrugged and grinned brightly. "Anyway! Yes, Usagi-chan, obviously we know this baby isn't yours. Doesn't it take something like nine months to bake a Bundt in the oven?"

"Forty weeks, to be precise, which is actually just a little over nine months. In the aggregate, the majority of mothers… Sorry, that's not really relevant to this conversation, is it?"

"That's okay, Ami-chan, it's the thought that counts," Makoto reassured her while Minako wrapped an arm around Usagi's shoulders.

"Anyway, Mamoru-san, do you mind terribly if we borrow Usagi-chan for a couple of hours? We had plans to go shopping this afternoon and I have a date tonight and I absolutely _need_ her opinion before I buy a whole new outfit for this guy."

Usagi's jaw dropped open slightly. "Oh no! I completely forgot! Minako-chan, I'm so sorry, but…"

"It's okay," Mamoru cut in, even as his heart thumped with the knowledge that it was anything but. _He only had a few days with her, after all._ "You had plans with your friends, right? You don't have to give those up for me."

"But Mamoru-san, I promised!"

"I know, and I'm saying it's okay. Go with your friends. Think you can be back at my apartment in time for lunch?"

The look on her face was all gratitude. Well, no, that wasn't true. It was a lot of gratitude… and a little bit of something else he wasn't sure he could name. But it was gone before he could spend too long questioning it, replaced with only happiness.

"Thanks, Mamoru-san. I'll be back before lunch, I really, really promise!"

He half-forced a chuckle as Minako looped her arm through Usagi's and Ami and Makoto waved 'bye' to him. Grabbing the handles of Manami's stroller, he felt his heart sag when the girls disappeared into a nearby store without Usagi looking back even once.

But he only allowed himself to wallow in his disappointment for a moment. After all, he had a few other things to pick up before he could go back to his apartment.

* * *

Cooking while there was an unsupervised baby in the house was turning out to be more of a challenge than Mamoru had ever expected. Even having set his expectations low with yakisoba, he had still had to rush out of the kitchen area in the middle of prepwork to stop the baby from chewing on a wire, and even though Manami was now happily pulling facial tissues from the box again, Mamoru was currently juggling a skillet of noodles and a bottle as he struggled to prepare both.

Noon was bearing down on him, and even knowing Usagi's terrible tendencies around time management, he wasn't willing to bet on her being late to a meal.

It was at that moment, the clock reading 11:54am, that he heard the soft 'click' of his door opening and footsteps in the genkan.

"Hey!" he called without looking up. "Lunch isn't quite ready yet. Can you keep an eye on Manami-chan while I finish up?"

"Sure, Mamoru-kun!" He froze in abject horror, turning to find short red hair and almond brown eyes where he'd expected blonde streamers and bright baby blues. _No._

"Ginga-san! What are you doing here?!"

"It's _Natsumi-chan_ , Mamoru-kun, how many times do I have to tell you?" she said with a giggle and a wave of her hand. "I heard you were taking care of a cute little baby this week, and since Tsukino-san flaked out on you, I thought I'd come by and help!"

His fingers tightened around the bottle. _Oh god. Did everyone in Juuban know about his hopeless feelings? And did that mean Natsumi of all people had to invite herself over?_

"She didn't flake," he said, even though the words felt a lot less convincing now than they had a few hours ago when he'd told her it was okay for her to go.

But Natsumi clearly wasn't listening. She'd crouched down next to Manami and was chastising him for making a mess – as though she thought the baby could not only speak fluent Japanese, but would be able to understand logic.

"It's okay, Natsumi-san," He started to explain that it would really be no trouble to clean up the mess, but suddenly Manami released a positively blood-curdling wail.

_What in the…?_

"Oh god. I've almost got a bottle ready for him, but could you check if he needs a fresh diaper?" He began to rinse the bottle under the tap, yakisoba forgotten on the stove as he tried to get the formula up to temperature.

"Uh, yeah, of course!"

The wailing stopped for a moment, but then there was a whole new sound – this one a high-pitched shriek.

Mamoru came running from the kitchenette, and she thrust Manami into his arms. "HE PEED ON MY _FACE_!" screeched Natsumi.

"Oh, damn. Hang on, I'll grab a damp towel!" Mamoru promised, doubling right back to the kitchen when the front door clicked again.

"Mamoru-san! I'm going to bother you!"

He froze, towel in one hand and Manami in the other, at the sweet sound of Usagi's voice.

And then he was once more in motion when Natsumi's shrill voice again pierced the air.

The two girls stood facing each other, Usagi with wide eyes in the genkan and Natsumi, face dripping, glowering in the hallway. Something about the look on Usagi's face stunned him, filled him with the urge to protect her, and he handed off the damp towel to Natsumi with only the vaguest awareness of his actions.

She violently wiped her face before hurling the towel to the floor. "I'm going home!" she thundered, stalking down the hall and shoving past Usagi into the genkan, savagely kicking Minako's slippers into the wall before jamming her feet in her own shoes and slamming the door behind her.

Usagi still stood stunned in the genkan, the force of the door slam causing her hair to billow just slightly. "Oh," she said, that same suspicious shininess in her eyes. "That's why you didn't mind if I went to hang out with my friends."

He blinked, and then his eyes went wide in horror as her misunderstanding sank in. "What? No. Usa, no."

"If you'd… I know you and Natsumi-san…" she let out a sharp exhale, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear before meeting his eyes, her jaw oddly set. "If you'd rather have Natsumi-san help you with Manami-chan, I understand that. I don't want to get in the way."

His jaw dropped as she looked down at her socked feet. He'd known he'd messed this up to a spectacular degree, but the idea that Usagi might ever believe she was 'in the way?' Of _some other girl_? It was appalling.

He pressed his lips together, forced a swallow down his parched throat. "Usa… Usagi-chan."

Her eyes snapped back up to meet his, going wide at the more familiar form of address.

"Natsumi-san invited herself in. I swear. I didn't ask her here, and I don't think of her like that."

She released a shuddering breath and a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It's okay, Mamoru-san, really. I get it. After all, you went on that date together at the VR arcade, and Natsumi-san clearly really likes you."

"Yeah, well, it takes two people to have a relationship." He couldn't quite help the curtness that crept into his tone, the annoyance at Usagi's insistence that he could possibly like _anyone_ else. "And no matter what _she_ thinks, Natsumi-san isn't the one that I like." Shaking his head at her assumptions, he gently held out the baby to her. "Now here, please keep an eye on Manami-chan while I finish lunch for us, okay?"

He let out a little sigh of relief when Usagi nodded and took Manami from him, the fakeness of her happy expression slowly fading away. For a moment there, he'd been so afraid that she would leave and abruptly end their tentative little friendship. He still didn't quite know the rules of this odd situation, but he felt inviting someone else to help babysit was likely some kind of breach.

"Mamoru-san, you can't just leave Manami-chan's butt uncovered!" she scolded, holding up the baby, still sans diaper. "He'll catch a cold!"

Her reprimand made him chuckle, and he grabbed a diaper from the morning's shopping bags and passed it to her. Then, standing by the couch, his eyes snagged and stopped on that small boutique bag he'd also picked up earlier.

As Usagi changed Manami's diaper, describing for the baby the great orange sundress Minako had picked out at the mall that day, Mamoru screwed his courage to the sticking place.

Usagi scooped Manami from the bed at the same time Mamoru scooped up the bag. "Hey, uh, Usagi-san," he said, holding it out to her.

Her eyebrows crinkled as she balanced Manami on one slender hip and snatched the paper bag from Mamoru, peeking in. Then she looked up at him, confusion painted in the furrows of her face. "Slippers?" she asked.

"I thought you should have your own pair," he explained as she pulled a fluffy blush-pink house shoe from the bag. "And not have to use the communal ones."

"You didn't need to do that," she said, but he knew from the look on her face that he'd made the right call in buying them, and an even better one in actually giving them to her. She pressed her lips together hard, sucking them into her mouth, but he could still see the way the edges of her mouth were fighting to turn up.

She dropped the slippers to the floor and slipped her stockinged feet into them, then settled down in the spot next to the coffee table that he already couldn't help but think of as 'hers.' As she began making funny faces for a now-cooing Manami, Mamoru finally was able to relax and focus his attention on the food again.

Silence reigned for a few minutes as he put the finishing touches on the yakisoba, and then Usagi's voice, more quiet than he'd ever heard it, trailed through the hush of his apartment.

"So, you and Natsumi-san… you're friends?"

He stepped back to face her, sincerity in his eyes. "Just friends."

"I'm glad."

For a moment, his heart forgot what it was to beat as he processed her apparent confession. Her face, meanwhile, flushed deep rosy pink; she must have realized what she'd inadvertently insinuated, because she quickly backpedaled.

"No, that's not, I mean… I'm just… I'm glad that you have Natsumi-san. It seems like you don't really have a lot of people that you're close to." She paused, a long, thoughtful silence stretching as she seemingly searched for the right words.

"Mamoru-san… Mako-chan lives alone because, well…" She shifted, lowering Manami from her shoulder to carefully rock him instead. "Do you… have any family nearby?"

It was never an easy conversation to have, but from the way she patiently sat, gently rocking Manami and waiting to see if he would answer, he knew that she would understand if he changed the subject.

That, more than anything else, gave him the confidence to press forward.

"No, I don't. They died in a car crash when I was very young."

"Oh, Mamoru-san." The look on her face was not unlike what it had been in the elevator, a lifetime ago when he'd told her this for the first time.

Back before he'd realized she had never been the key to his past at all; she might once have been the key to his future, but he had ruined that.

"It was a long time ago," he said, stepping back into the kitchen to dish up the yakisoba and escape her tender look. "I don't really remember them. And I'm doing just fine. You don't need to worry about me."

Her eyes were soft as she cradled the baby. "No, I just… I feel like I understand you better now."

He looked up at her, a little surprised, and she blinked the sentiment from her eyes and shrugged. "I mean, if you didn't have anyone to help dress you, no wonder you developed such atrocious fashion sense."

His laughter came in a bark before he returned from the kitchen and set her bowl and chopsticks down on the coffee table in front of her. "What if I told you that the jacket you hate so much was the only thing I inherited from my father?" he asked conversationally as he took a seat on the floor next to her, digging his own chopsticks into the noodles.

Her jaw fell open and her eyes went so wide that they took up most of her face. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to formulate words before she dropped her gaze to the floor. After a moment of pained silence, she looked back up at him with wild eyes. "Oh my… oh my _god,_ Mamoru-san I am _so sorry,_ I had _no idea_ …"

He held up a hand to silence her stuttering protests. "Usagi-san! Usagi-san, it's fine. It wasn't my dad's, I picked it up at a rummage sale a few years ago and just liked it."

Her jaw dropped again, this time in clear indignation. "Ugh! You absolute jerk!"

But before she could read him the riot act he likely deserved, Manami began squirming in Usagi's arms, distracting her. She set the baby on the floor where he cheerily began shaking a pink plastic ring that Usagi had picked out for him at a shop earlier that day.

Once Manami was situated, Usagi looked back up at Mamoru, who was smirking just the slightest bit. When she opened her mouth to throw another accusation, however, he gently tapped the table in front of her with one finger.

"You should really eat that before it gets cold," he said, and watched with rapt fascination as Usagi tried to decide between her annoyance with him and her desire for food. As expected, it only took a moment before food won out.

She picked up the bowl and slurped the noodles, then looked at him. "This is really good," she said, and he shrugged off the compliment.

"It's just yakisoba," he said. "I would have made something nicer, but I couldn't really leave Manami-chan unsupervised…" His heartbeat sped up. "Maybe another time, I mean, after he goes home to his mother…"

But his offer to cook for her some other time was cut off by a beeping sound from his pocket, and he scrunched his eyes in frustration. _Of freaking course._

He supposed it was better that a summons from Venus came while Usagi was here, at least, and he didn't have to go find someone to watch Manami while he went and fought a Cardian.

"Usagi-san, um, this might sound a little weird."

She tilted her head, her nose scrunched and her eyes quizzical. "What's that?"

_Beep, beep, beep._

"You know how you said you felt bad because I had to watch Manami-chan all alone last night?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I… have to step out for a few minutes. It's an emergency, or I wouldn't." _That was a significant understatement._ "Will you be okay by yourself?"

_Beep, beep, beep._

She nodded, scooping up Manami and holding him to the right of her face so they could both look at Mamoru. "Uh-huh! We'll be just fine by ourselves, won't we, Manami-chan?!"

He nodded, relieved, and reached out to gently squeeze her left shoulder. "You're a lifesaver, really. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Usagi grinned and set Manami back on the ground, where he grabbed up the same pink toy with a happy gurgle. She grabbed her bowl of yakisoba from the coffee table before throwing Mamoru a wink. "Well, go already," she teased, and he blinked, realizing his fingers were still just-touching the denim of her jacket.

He cleared his throat, brushing his suddenly damp palms against his pants as he rose to his feet. "Right. Thanks. I'll be back soon."

He managed to only pause for a second in the doorway, his slippers swapped for shoes, to watch Usagi sit and eat on the floor of his apartment as if she belonged there.

And then he closed his door, heart swollen in his chest, and made his way to the elevator to transform. When he hit the call button, that persistent _beep, beep, beep_ sounded again from his pocket. He pulled the communicator free with a heavy sigh, tapping one of the star buttons.

Instantly, the circle lit up with a familiar pixelized face. "Oh, hey Mamoru-san! Never mind, Sailor Mercury and I took care of it!" Sailor Venus winked, blew a kiss, and the video feed went dead.

"What? Wait, _what_?!"

* * *

He had no idea how to explain to Usagi that his emergency had somehow resolved before he even had time to leave the building, so instead he went out and paced the street for half an hour before he actually returned to his home. While pacing, he at least wandered past a conbini and was inspired to go in and grab some apology snacks.

When he reentered the apartment, hands laden with bags of convenience store snacks, he found Usagi laying on her belly in front of the TV, watching an infomercial and occasionally shaking the end of her pigtail so Manami would swipe at it and giggle.

"Mamoru-san!" Usagi cried. "You've come home! You do know you're supposed to say 'I've just now come home' right?"

He set the bags down and swapped his shoes for his slippers, shaking his head fondly. "Usagi-san, I live alone. Who would I be telling I was home?"

"Me and Manami-chan, duh," she replied, waving a hand dismissively, as though a little thing like living alone should have no bearing whatsoever on the observance of cultural rituals.

Though he knew she was being glib, his insides constricted. The longing threatened to choke him, and so he wordlessly held out a package of Country Ma'am cookies for her.

Recognizing the packaging, she squealed and skittered across the floor, grabbing for the bag.

She rolled on her back and popped the plastic open as Mamoru began emptying the bags onto the floor next to her, his fingers flexing as he tried to put a lid on the kaleidoscope of feelings inside him.

"You know you have like, nothing fun to do here?" she said, mouth full of mini cookies. "You should really pay for cable or get some books that aren't boring or something." He flinched, her careless words twisting around those spiraling feelings and sending them into a tailspin.

Maybe if his throat hadn't been tight with wanting her to want him back, if Minako hadn't pointed out similar inadequacies in him every time she came over, if he'd actually taken some of Minako's advice instead of dismissing it, maybe he would have reacted differently.

As it was, he tossed the new tissue box he'd bought to replace the ones Manami had emptied across the floor; it spun and slid, wedging itself half-under the edge of his dresser. "I'm in college, Usagi-san. I don't have unlimited money to entertain guests."

"That's not-"

"I'm sorry that my space isn't Usagi-friendly. I wasn't planning for you to be here this weekend, and we're watching a baby. If that's not entertaining enough, maybe you should have brought something else to do."

She recoiled like he'd slapped her. "Mamoru, what the..?"

He closed his eyes and exhaled a slow, shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Usagi-san. That was uncalled for." He opened his eyes to look at her, sitting with her ankles crossed and clutching the bag of cookies to her chest.

"Yeah, it was," she said. The hurt on her face lessened, but didn't completely abate.

He blew out another breath, pressing fingers into his temple. _He'd always known he was going to ruin this sooner or later_.

Looking back up, fragments of a better apology somewhere on his tongue, he blinked. And he blinked again, grabbing Usagi's hand. "Usagi, look!" He pointed over her shoulder, and she turned to gape with him.

Manami stood on wobbly little legs, one hand holding on to the corner of the coffee table, before he took one, two, three steps, walking unassisted to where the tissue box had settled. With a cry of delight, Manami plopped down and began pulling fresh tissues from the box.

"Did he…?" Usagi asked, the residual hurt in her eyes replaced with astonishment.

"He did! He just walked!" Mamoru said, taking small hops in his excitement.

"He just walked!" cried Usagi, climbing to her knees, eyes dancing, before she threw herself into Mamoru's arms.

Startled by the unprecedented move, he managed to catch her – he would always catch her – and suddenly found himself spinning in his genkan with an armful of giddy, gleeful Usagi.

"He _walked,_ Mamoru, he actually walked!" she kept proclaiming through her giggles.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Mamoru jerked around to find Mizuno Ami standing in his doorway, hands on her hips and a knowing smile on her face. And it _was_ knowing – after all, Sailor Mercury was well aware of his feelings.

He lowered Usagi instantly, taking a large step back and smoothing a palm over his heated neck. "Manami-chan just, uh…"

But Usagi, who had scrambled out of the genkan and was now standing a rowboat's distance from him, was also stumbling over explanations. "…we were just excited, you know, baby's first steps!"

"Oh, Manami-chan took his first steps? How wonderful!" Ami said with a cheery grin. "I actually was coming by about Manami-chan. I received an update from the hospital, apparently his mother woke up and is doing well. They should be discharging her tomorrow morning at 10am. Do you think the two of you can bring Manami-chan to the clinic then so she can take him home?"

"Yes, of course," Usagi said at the same time as Mamoru's "Sure."

"Great!" Ami clapped her hands together. "Now, Usagi-chan, Ikuko-mama also called me, apparently you didn't give her Mamoru-san's phone number?"

Mamoru froze, and hated himself for doing it. _It made sense, after all. He hadn't given Usagi his number, so how could she have given it to her mother?_

"I accidentally mentioned that essay for English that you apparently haven't started yet, so she wanted to ensure you came home early and got a jump on it tonight. She asked me to make sure you're home by 5pm."

Usagi's shoulders slumped forward. "Ami-channnnn, why would you tell Mama about that essay?! And five? That's in like… twenty minutes!"

"Usagi-chan, it was assigned three weeks ago! I assumed you'd have at least started it by now!"

She dragged a pink-slippered foot along the hardwood floor and sighed before turning dejected blue eyes to meet his. "Mamoru-san, I'm so sorry. I really expected to be here to help a lot later. You shouldn't have let me go shopping with Mina-P."

"It's fine, Usagi-san," he said. He was disappointed to have their time together cut short, but at least this way she'd be leaving on a high note, right? "You've been a big help, really."

Her smile was weak. "You're just saying that."

"C'mon, who taught Manami-chan how to walk?"

She giggled and smirked at him. "He's not falling down enough for me to have been the one who taught him."

"Hey, you're doing great today. Not even one stumble! I call that a role model."

Now her smile was big. "I can still come with you tomorrow to return Manami-chan, if you want?"

"I do." The words were out instantly, and her smile stretched even wider.

"Okay then. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he agreed, giving Usagi a hand down into the genkan.

"Ami-chan, wanna walk with me?"

"Oh no, you go ahead, Usagi-chan. I have a few more things to go over with Mamoru-san about Manami-chan."

Usagi nodded and waved to them both, and then the door clicked shut behind her.

Though Usagi was gone, when Mamoru opened his mouth to speak, Ami held up a hand to silence him.

Ten seconds passed, then thirty, before Ami lowered her hand, smiling the smile of the resolute. "Mamoru-san, I think it's fair to assume that you've deduced-"

"Is she gone?"

Mamoru jumped three feet in the air and whirled to find a blonde head had appeared in the now-open glass doorway of his balcony. "Jesus CHRIST, Minako!" He clutched a hand to his chest as he fought to return his breathing to normal.

"What? If we both showed up while Usagi-chan was here, she might have thought it was weird." She tossed Ami an 'am I right?' look as she spoke, which Mamoru ignored.

"So you decided to climb in through my fifteenth-story balcony?"

"Oh, like you've never done this."

"Yeah, but it's _my_ apartment!"

Ami pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Can we return to the subject at hand, please?"

"Of course, don't mind me!" Minako said with a wink and mock-salute before draping herself languidly across Mamoru's couch and dropping her Sailor Venus transformation. Mamoru exhaled and climbed out of the genkan to take a seat by the coffee table while Ami swapped her shoes for orange slippers.

"So, Mamoru-san," Ami said, sitting seiza on the floor next to him. "As I was saying, I assume you've surmised that I have reawakened as Sailor Mercury. Accordingly, I felt a debriefing was in order to ensure we are all on the same page until the other Senshi reawaken."

"Assuming the other Senshi reawaken," Mamoru muttered, mostly under his breath.

Ami's smile turned sympathetic and she pulled a blue pocket computer from her bag. "Mamoru-san, according to my calculations there is a 98.6% probability that the remaining Senshi will awaken on their own within the next month, with a standard deviation of a week and a margin of error of 0.4%."

"Ha!" Minako crowed, looking up from the medical textbook she was currently idly flipping through.

"I thought you had a date tonight. Shouldn't you be there?" Mamoru ground through his teeth.

Minako shrugged and stretched. "Senshi business is _obviously_ more important. Plus, I can be late. That way, he knows I'm worth waiting for."

"…Right."

"In the meantime, we really should compare notes on the current threat." Ami was furiously tapping away on the small blue device's keyboard. "Now, I've spoken to Luna and Artemis, and Minako-chan allowed me to review the extant Cardian research, which does require further analysis, but I wanted to specifically discuss your 'Seijuro theory,' as I call it."

He shook his head. "That was nothing. You remember the day at the Hanami festival?"

She nodded. "Yes, that was my thought too. If he can be accounted for during the attacks, the odds that he is involved drop significantly. Of course, I can understand your inherent dislike of him, given he and Usagi-chan's particular… relationship."

His fist curled at the mention. At least for the last two days, he'd managed to drive Seijuro almost completely from his mind – after all, Usagi was spending her time with _him_ , not with Seijuro. But Ami's word choice brought it all back in sharp relief.

"You know," Minako's voice piped up again. "If you'd just let us return her memories, Usagi-chan would drop Seijuro-san like a warm carrot, _your majesty_."

His head was shaking without his conscious awareness and a knife was squeezing in his throat. "No. I don't want that."

Ami's blue eyes were full of surprise. "You don't want Usagi-chan to love you?"

"No, I…" He fumbled over his words, trying to find the right ones to explain something so... private. "…I don't love her because she was Serenity," he finally said, haltingly. "And I don't want her to only love the shadow of Endymion that lingers in me."

Ami's eyebrow quirked, and she looked to Minako, who quickly occupied herself by brushing an imaginary speck of lint from her orange skirt. "Alright," Ami said after a moment. "We need to find another lead in the meantime, then. So. Have we considered the possibility of time travel creating a concentration of energy in modern day Tokyo that the alien threat is harnessing?"

* * *

Usagi had woken up inordinately early again, though this time Mamoru had had the good sense to be fully dressed and have breakfast already on the table for her when she arrived. They'd eaten quickly, Usagi in her pink slippers and Mamoru keeping an eye on the now-toddling Manami, before they strapped the baby into his stroller and made their way back to the Nakamura Clinic.

Manami's mother was waiting in the lobby, a little pale but otherwise fine from her convalescence, full of thanks for them and cuddles for her son.

"Manami, did this nice couple take care of you?" she asked, smiling knowingly at the teenagers.

Mamoru felt his ears burn, and turned to find Usagi's cheeks were also blotching pink. "Um."

"Mamo!" replied Manami with delight, and Mamoru's embarrassment shriveled into wonder.

"Did he just…?"

"Usa!" Manami added, reaching out to try to grab a fistful of Usagi's hair.

"He did!" cried Usagi, her eyes lighting up as her hand slipped into Mamoru's.

"Manami! Mama is so proud of you!" Manami's mother pressed a kiss to the crown of her son's head and beamed at Usagi and Mamoru. "Really, I can never thank you both enough. Here," she dug in her bag and pulled out a business card, offering it to Mamoru. "If you ever want to come and visit Manami, please give me a call."

He nodded, realizing with a gulp that Usagi's fingers were still entwined with his before reaching out to take the card with his free hand.

"Of course," he agreed with a polite bow, doing his best to keep his other arm completely still so Usagi wouldn't realize as Manami's mother ('Ito Yui,' according to the business card) bowed in return and pushed the stroller out of the clinic and into the morning sunshine.

Usagi was bouncing on her toes, her grin giddy. "Mamoru, Mamoru, Mamoru-san, we taught Manami-chan to walk _and_ to talk!" Her fingers tightened around his as she shook his hand in her own, eyes dancing as she squealed. "He said our _names_!"

Her enthusiasm swept over him and he found himself grinning foolishly at her. "See? Proof that you are at a higher intellectual level than Manami-chan. You have to really know something to teach it."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," she informed him with an unladylike snort that completely undermined her prim delivery.

They stood for a moment in the lobby of the Nakamura Clinic, smiling at each other, before Mamoru realized that he didn't have an excuse to hang out with her anymore.

Abruptly, he released her hand, running his palm down the back of his neck. "Uh, I guess we should go. The doctors probably don't need us clogging up their waiting area." _Ask her to go with you to the Crown. Offer to take her for ice cream. Something!_

Her megawatt smile dimmed slightly, and she shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Plus, you probably have a lot of schoolwork to do now that you have your apartment back to yourself."

He nodded, feeling stupid that he'd even let himself hope that she might have suggested they go somewhere else instead. He should know better than that.

"Uh, I actually left my bag up in your apartment… do you mind if I come back and grab it?"

 _Not at all. Also, you're welcome to stay the rest of the day. Or forever_. "Of course."

Her answering smile lit up his insides, and a warm glow settled over them both as they made their way back to his apartment in silence. He never quite knew what to make of silence from Usagi, but it felt strangely comfortable and he was hesitant to break it, even as he unlocked his front door and pushed it open for her.

He didn't bother slipping off his shoes or stepping out of the genkan; instead, he watched from the doorway as she scurried into his living room and grabbed her pink pleather crossbody from where she'd dumped it on his couch earlier.

She returned to the genkan quickly, setting the pink slippers next to his before slipping her own shoes back on and tossing the bag over her shoulder. She smoothed her pigtails and smiled at him, stepping around him and back into the hallway. "Well, see you around, Mamoru-san."

 _She was leaving, she was_ _ **leaving**_ _, this could be his last chance,_ _ **say something**_. "Hey, Odango."

She looked up, and he crossed one ankle behind the other in faux casualness, leaning his shoulder into the doorframe so he could look down and easily meet the petite girl's gaze. "Feel free to come back any time. I mean… It'd be a shame if those slippers went to waste, yeah?"

Her smile was big and bright and blinding. "You really mean that? You're not sick of me?"

 _Never._ He chuckled over the pleasant swoop of his stomach. "If you warn me first, I'll even cook for you again."

She giggled, twining her fingers into one of the ribbons of her hair. "Man, a girl could get used to offers like that. Are you sure that you're really Mamoru-baka?"

He smirked. "I've been known to answer to that name, but I'm trying for just 'Mamoru.'"

Her head tilted just slightly and her eyes went soft. "You're getting closer every day."

His throat went dry, unsure how to respond to that, and there was a pause before she broke their held gaze, scrunching her nose and stepping towards the elevator.

"…I should let you go study for that test. But I'll see you soon?"

"Soon," he agreed as she pressed the call button.

Leaning in the doorframe, he watched her wait for the elevator, looking back and meeting his eyes with a wave and a beatific smile when the doors finally opened. His heart convulsed, and he smiled helplessly back at her.

The smell of her hair lingered in the hallway, her pink slippers lined up next to his black ones, and the dishes from her breakfast still sat, unwashed, on his coffee table. Hints of her presence were everywhere, and yet all he wanted, even moments after she'd left, was to see her again. The kaleidoscope inside him was back, but rather than fragmenting his emotions, this time it zeroed in on only one with crystal clarity.

Even if that rational part of him knew that this wasn't what he was supposed to do, he wasn't strong enough to fight it anymore. For the first time, he allowed himself to consciously think his dearest wish:

_Maybe he_ _**could** _ _get her to fall in love with him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So according to Nari20 (who makes amazing Sailor Moon fanart and you should really follow her on Tumblr / Twitter if you don't already) when you let yourself into someone else's home in Japan, you say the phrase 'Ojama Shimasu' which literally translates to 'I'm going to bother you.' So of COURSE Usagi had to say it when she let herself into Mamoru's apartment, it's too perfect!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this extra-long chapter, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	7. Mayhem at the School Festival! Natsumi and Seijuro are Aliens??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy beginning-of-the-winter-holiday-season! It's my favorite time of year, and I will be on break and hopefully writing a lot more! I am participating in a Secret Santa fic exchange, so sadly not all of the work I do this break will be on R (but hey, I also got this chapter turned around in record time, so who knows?!)
> 
> As always, a big huge thank you to my Beta FloraOne for all her love and support, and thank you thank you to everyone who is bookmarking, kudo'sing, and leaving reviews! Even when I'm excited to be working on a new chapter, hearing that people are enjoying my work makes me so much more motivated.
> 
> Now, I hope you enjoy my take on the Spring festival episode!

"Usagi thinks you like me, dumbass."

Mamoru looked up from the notes he was poring over, blinking as his company came back into sharp focus. Luna was a loaf on his window sill, the tip of her tail twitching slightly, while Artemis sat at attention on the couch next to Minako. The blonde was glaring at him, legs crossed at the knees, as she idly spun a pen in her fingers.

"Excuse me?"

"U-sa-gi thinks you like ME, dumb-ass," Minako repeated, stressing each individual syllable as though she was speaking to someone rather hard of hearing.

Mamoru turned his head helplessly to enlist the support of Ami, who was sitting next to him at the coffee table, but she immediately focused her entire attention on her mini-computer, ears taking on the slightest tinge of pink.

"Why in the world would she think that?!" Mamoru protested, turning back to face the firing squad of Minako's accusations when it became clear no help would be forthcoming.

Minako shrugged one shoulder. "Beats me, I'm over here talking up how strictly platonic our relationship is at every opportunity, and she's still got it in her head somehow that you have a crush on me. You really should do something about that."

He rubbed his fingertips across his forehead, smoothing out the furrows. Much as he wanted to believe that Usagi might care in the slightest about his romantic life, a month of Senshi meetings with Minako had given him a firm grasp on her trademark brand of theatricality. He could not allow himself to get worked up over something that was probably ninety-five percent exaggeration.

"Duly noted," he deadpanned. "Now, if we could return to the matter at hand-"

"She wanted to invite you to the school festival tomorrow," Minako pressed on, ignoring Mamoru's clear lack of interest in discussing the subject. "We're all going as a group, and she was going to ask you, but apparently you did something that made her change her mind." Without his consent, his pulse increased until he could hear it in his ears, and he tamped down on it with oppressive force.

"Minako-san," Mamoru muttered, flipping over a piece of paper in forced calm. "The sentiment is appreciated, but I'm capable of managing my own affairs without your help."

She sniffed. "Clearly."

"Usagi-chan did say she'd like it if you were there, Mamoru-san." As always, Ami's voice was quiet, but there was a note of conviction in her words that assured Mamoru that there was no hyperbole in what she'd said.

It was that note that made his breathing stop.

He swallowed, chest tight as his heartbeat resumed pounding in his ears, so fast this time that there was no hope of calming it down.

* * *

His hands were deep in his pockets and his heart was in his throat as he stood outside the school gates, next to the bright arching banner that broadcasted 'T.A. School Festival 1993.' He still couldn't shake the strange sense of déjà vu that came to him every time he read that name, but considering that he had memories from at least three lives kicking around in his head, he wasn't letting the fact that he couldn't quite put his finger on it bother him too much.

He had much bigger worries today.

Ami had said the festival started at 9:30am, and had promised him that she'd told Usagi 9am, so it was totally reasonable for him to be here and waiting already at 9:15am. It was possible that Usagi might be early for once in her life; after all, this was a social outing. And besides, he didn't want to be the one who was late if it turned out she actually _did_ want to see him. Assuming what Minako had said was true. Which it probably wasn't.

Invasive thoughts whirled in his head, and he started kicking himself for not bringing a book.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket – after Usagi's disparaging comments about his trusty green one, he thought it was best to leave it home today – and the same white button down he'd worn to the cherry blossom viewing. The jacket had roomy pockets, and he could have easily slipped a slim novel into it before he'd left his apartment, if he'd only thought to. But he hadn't, and now he had fifteen minutes to kill and too many thoughts he badly needed a distraction from.

Blowing out a breath, he looked up and smiled with relief when he saw a blue-haired teenager in a familiar school uniform coming up the street towards him.

"Good morning, Mamoru-san," Ami said with a polite bow when she got close, and Mamoru returned the gesture.

"Good morning to you, Ami-san," he responded.

"How was the rest of your evening?"

The corner of his lip quirked up. "Uneventful. After you and Minako-san left, I mostly studied for my anatomy exam; the syllabus says that some students will be selected to perform dissections in the next unit, and I'd like to be prepared."

"Oh, how interesting," Ami enthused. "I admit my own experience with dissection is rather limited. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to dissect a frog in my science class last year, but it was only for the advanced students and not everyone had the chance to participate. Do you expect you'll be working with cadavers?"

Mamoru chuckled, glad that talking to Ami, at least, was straightforward. "No, I'm only a first-year student, so they're not willing to let us start with cadavers. I believe we'll be dissecting cats, and I was able to work with a fetal pig in my high school biology class."

Ami nodded. "I would love to have the opportunity to dissect something more complicated than a frog. The only way to really understand how the body works is with direct experience, and I would never feel comfortable working on a living human without thoroughly establishing that foundation first." There was a short pause, and her lips turned up in a saucy expression that was almost disturbingly un-Ami-like. "So, have you told Luna about your plans to dissect a cat?"

Mamoru was saved from having to process his dawning guilt at her teasing implication by Ami looking over his shoulder and then waving her hand. "Usagi-chan, you're early!" she called, and he turned to find a golden whirlwind running up the sidewalk towards them.

"Yup, five whole minutes!" she cried, but then skidded to a halt, her eyes big and bright and looking between him and Ami.

Ami touched two fingers to Mamoru's upper arm and grinned at her friend. "Usagi-chan, look who I ran into! It turns out Mamoru-san was coming to the festival all alone, so I invited him to spend the day with us. Is that okay?"

Usagi blinked twice, and then a huge smile spread across her face. "Sure! Good morning, Mamoru-san!"

His heart was beating double-time already, and the look on her face ratcheted it up to triple-time. "Good morning, Usagi-san," he said. His mind cast out for something to follow up with – _how did you sleep, are you happy it's the weekend, what are your plans for tomorrow_ – and quickly dismissed each as depressingly banal. _How did other people make flirting look so easy?_

The silence started to stretch – Ami's expression appeared to be something suspiciously like amusement – but then another voice chimed from behind him.

"Usagi-chan! I thought for sure I'd beat you here!"

"Mako-chan!" Usagi responded, turning to face her other friend and immediately losing all interest in Mamoru. He tried to quell his odd swell of loss when she cozied up to her friend and began to chatter about the events the festival was supposed to have, including some kind of cake-making contest and all sorts of food stands.

He was jolted out of watching her by a thump between his shoulder blades, and spun to find a self-congratulatory Minako had snuck up behind him and smacked him on the back – and, being a senshi, Minako could pack quite a wallop when she wanted to.

"Morning, Minako-san," he wheezed, forcing air back into his lungs as the blonde guardian smirked up at him.

"Way to be a creep, Chiba," Minako replied, arms akimbo. "In my experience, girls tend to like it better when you use your words, rather than slobber over them like a dog over a bone."

"I wasn't slobbering," he muttered, his voice taking on a distinct note of petulance.

"Sure you weren't," Minako said, patting him on the shoulder in a manner that conveyed that she was humoring him.

"So, uh, should we head inside?" Mamoru asked the group, hoping to distract Minako but somehow accidentally attracting Usagi's attention instead.

"Oh, no, we're still waiting for the Gingas," she said, tilting her head like she was surprised he didn't know that, and his stomach dropped into his feet.

* * *

_Ami and Minako should have warned him,_ he half-seethed five minutes later as he watched a newly arrived Seijuro lean into Usagi's personal space, flirting with her like a pro.

Well. He wasn't going to claim that Minako deciding this was need-to-know information that he didn't need to know was at all surprising, but he felt strangely betrayed by Ami's silence.

He couldn't decide which was worse, Seijuro's mouth next to Usagi's ear or Natsumi simpering next to him, her arms wrapped around his wrist and her voice prattling on about something he couldn't have cared less about. For a fraction of a second, Mamoru thought he saw Usagi's blue eyes drift in his direction before she flushed and dropped a hand to Seijuro's forearm.

Mamoru looked away, grinding his molars together in frustration; when he'd agreed to come, he'd had no idea it meant he'd be watching Usagi on a date with someone else. _Again_.

Hurt blue eyes flicked to Ami, who looked chagrined as Minako called the group to attention and began walking ahead, leading them through the school gates. With a sharp exhale, Mamoru followed the group, hoping his long legs would allow him to "accidentally" outpace Natsumi and shake her off.

Unfortunately, she clung like a koala, refusing to relinquish his arm even through two stumbles, until he finally slowed again out of guilt. _But at least he'd pulled ahead of Usagi and Seijuro and would be spared having to watch them canoodle._

It didn't feel like much of a victory.

Minako had somehow managed to maintain a distance of about five feet between her and Mamoru that remained constant regardless of how quickly Mamoru was walking, but when he glanced back over his shoulder he realized that his attempt to outstrip Natsumi had left the rest of the group lagging quite a bit behind.

Pulling to a stop – Natsumi still holding tight to his forearm – Mamoru allowed Ami, Makoto, Usagi, and Seijuro to catch up to them. When the gap closed and Seijuro passed, fingers curled around Usagi's upper arm, the younger boy sniffed and threw Mamoru a look of open disdain.

Mamoru's fist tightened so his short nails dug into the skin of his palm, wishing that he was the sort of person who would rip Seijuro's filthy hands off of Usagi and pull her far from his reach before kissing her senseless – and that Usagi was the kind of person who would appreciate that sort of display.

But she wasn't. Not if it came from him.

As the group re-formed, Mamoru realized with a jolt that Usagi was oddly quiet today, something he found portentous. The only time he could ever remember Usagi being quiet for more than a minute or two was during the walk back to his apartment after they'd returned Manami, and that had quickly become one of his most precious memories.

Either their weekend together had meant nothing to her, or she was so content with Seijuro that she had no issues sharing a comfortable silence with him, even in the company of her friends.

He didn't much like either of those options.

_Ami should have warned him._ The thought panged through his brain again, this time with the same lingering note of regret that regularly woke him in the night.

He hadn't been ready for the day to go like this, for his fledgling hopes that he could make Usagi love him back to be dashed so efficiently.

He was beginning to formulate his excuses – some test he'd failed to study for or an appointment he'd forgotten about – when he heard Usagi's voice chime: "Where's the takoyaki? The yakisoba? The curried rice?"

Makoto chuckled. "Chill, we'll get some later."

But Mamoru's ears pricked up. He may have forgotten a book, but he wasn't completely useless.

"Um. Usagi-san," He reached into his brown jacket's breast pocket and pulled out a box of Pucca – the first package he put his hand on. "I brought some snacks. If you want."

Her eyes lit up and she hopped right out of Seijuro's grasp to sidle up to Mamoru. Natsumi attempted to pull Mamoru so he would face her moreso than Usagi – but on this, he would not be moved.

He held out the box to her as she grinned up at him. "You know most people don't bring their own snacks to a festival, Mamoru-san," she teased.

"Well if you don't want them…" he said, raising his arm slightly, threatening to pull the chocolate pretzels from her reach.

"Nooo!" she cried out, but her smile was wide as she nearly jumped in an attempt to try to snatch the pack away from him.

"I can buy you some yakitako, Usagi-chan," Seijuro appeared at Usagi's elbow, wrapping his hands around her forearm and pulling her reach back away from Mamoru.

Usagi allowed herself to be turned. "You mean takoyaki?" she asked, a slight crinkle between her eyebrows.

"Yes, yes, takoyaki. Usagi-chan, I would be honored to buy you some takoyaki."

"We were gonna do clubs and stuff before we went to the food part of the festival," said Makoto, putting her hands on her hips.

Natsumi crossed her arms and tossed her head. "Why is everyone so preoccupied with feeding Tsukino-san? Does she not weigh enough already or something?" Her voice was bitter as she threw a glare at the odangoed blonde. "Anyway, can't you get your _own_ food?"

Usagi immediately deflated, and Mamoru's hand, still holding the Pucca, dropped to his side. Minako, however, finally broke her habitual distance from Mamoru to step between her princess and Natsumi.

"I'm sorry, Ginger-san, wasn't it?" she snapped, then pressed on before Natsumi had a chance to correct her. "I don't see how what Usagi-chan eats or who gives it to her is any of your business. Unless you're jealous that nobody seems to like _you_ enough to want to feed you?"

Natsumi's face flushed, then crumpled. She stamped a foot with a cry of anger before rushing away from the group.

"Natsumi!" Seijuro cried, pausing only long enough to throw a venomous look first at Minako, then at Mamoru, before running after his sister.

"Oh, Mina-P, you didn't have to be so mean!" Usagi protested.

"Neither did she," Minako rebutted, crossing her arms across her chest.

"We need to go after her," Usagi said, and Makoto sighed.

"No, Usagi-chan, she's clearly upset with you, and then Minako-chan hurt her feelings. If we all went after her, it would probably just make it worse. Let Seijuro-kun take care of her for now. If you're really worried about it, I can go check on them both in a little bit, after she's had some time to cool off."

Usagi didn't look thrilled with this plan, but sucked in her cheek before nodding.

"C'mon, Usagi-chan," Makoto said, slipping a reassuring arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. "Don't let them ruin your day, okay?"

Usagi sighed and forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, while Mamoru wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing instinctively that his input would not help here.

Makoto gave Usagi a gentle nudge with her shoulder. "C'mon, I want to see if I can win that cake making contest, and I need your support!"

Usagi smiled, weak but this time real, as Ami said "Yes, while you all are preoccupied with the cake contest, I was hoping to explore the science exhibits in the East wing. Unless you wanted to come along with me?"

Usagi pulled a face involuntarily, and Ami giggled. "Well, then, I'll see you all later," she said, stepping away from their little cluster with a bow before she disappeared through a door into the school.

Usagi paused, blinked, and then said "Mamoru-san, you probably want to go look at the science exhibits with Ami-chan, right?"

Mamoru shook his head, probably a little too vigorously. "No, uh, I'm actually really interested in that cake making contest!" he said, then wrinkled his forehead as he realized the nonsense he'd just blurted out.

Usagi's smile finally reached her eyes even as Minako rolled her own so hard that they threatened to fall out of her head.

"I dunno, Mamoru-san, you'll be competing with Mako-chan," Usagi said. "You're a good cook, but I don't know if you're _that_ good."

Makoto puffed up slightly at Usagi's words and Mamoru shook his head slightly. He would freely admit that he wasn't prepared to go toe-to-toe with Makoto, but he also wasn't prepared to admit the real reason he was there.

It couldn't be that hard to put frosting on a cake, could it?

* * *

It turned out it was hard to put frosting on a cake.

Makoto was on the other side of the home economics room, making cake decorating look easy with her fondant and her perfectly proportioned flowers and her carefully spaced writing, while Mamoru's frosting had somehow simultaneously melted and congealed on the surface of his still-warm cake, leaving a mismatched splotch of color in its wake. He moved his body between himself and the small crowd of students who were watching, hoping to hide his failure of a cake from Usagi's view.

Even so, he couldn't hide it from the student commentator, who circulated the kitchen like a shark that smelled blood in the water and had apparently elected herself emcee of the contest; she was holding a running commentary on the likely winner of the contest (Makoto) and the likely loser (Mamoru), to the great amusement of all assembled.

Especially Minako.

Usagi, at least, had the courtesy to school her face into an expression of innocence and unconcern, but Minako was taking in Mamoru's struggles with obvious relish. She had occasionally even called out some unsolicited advice, though Mamoru had (mercifully) caught Usagi shushing her after one such raucous outburst.

At this point, Mamoru was mostly concerned with running out the clock so that he could tip his mangled confection directly into the nearest trash can.

When the student commentator called time, however, and Mamoru beelined for the large wastebasket in the center of the room, Minako appeared out of nowhere and seized the platter from his hands before he could dump it.

The Senshi of Love whirled away from him before he could even open his mouth to protest, dropping his ugly cake with a clatter on a nearby table and grabbing two forks, handing one to Usagi.

Mamoru's ears and neck burned as Minako dug her fork into the top layer of the cake, then popped it in her mouth.

"Hm," she made a little noise of approval and gestured for Usagi to try some.

Usagi wasted no time in following her friend's lead, quickly scooping up a large bite of cake and popping it into her mouth. "Mm!"

"It may be ugly, Chiba," Minako said, dropping one hand to her hip, "But it doesn't taste half-bad."

"You didn't allow enough time for it to cool," Makoto said knowingly as she popped up from behind them all, a first prize ribbon pinned to her chest and three slices of beautifully frosted cake balanced along her arm. "If you want, I'd be happy to give you a lesson sometime. If Usagi-chan likes it, you've obviously got some potential we can work with."

Mamoru's flush deepened at Makoto's offer, and Usagi made grabby hands for one of the plates Makoto carried. She handed them out – one to Usagi, one to Minako, and then, much to his surprise, one to Mamoru.

He blinked owlishly at the tall brunette, who only smiled back at him, though she started beaming when Usagi launched into an effusive stream of praise.

"Mamoru-san, aren't you going to eat your cake?" Usagi asked, finally looking up from her own empty plate.

He held it out for her wordlessly, and she looked at him as if he'd just suggested she drown Luna's kitten. "No, Mamoru-baka, Mako-chan made that for _you_. You should be the one to eat it."

As if to prove her point, she cut a slice from Mamoru's garish cake and began tucking in to that instead.

Shaking his head, still trying to figure out why Makoto would have brought him a slice of cake in the first place, he picked up a fork and took a bite. He blinked. He took another bite.

"Makoto-san, this is amazing," he said, and Makoto's cheeks turned pink with pleasure.

"Thank you, Mamoru-san," she replied, brushing her hands together before untying her apron. "Anyway, now that I've had my fun, we really should check out the rest of the festival, don't you think?"

* * *

The next few hours were a blur of flower arranging, traditional dancing, and film watching; at one point, he was pretty sure they even wound up on a driving range, but they were out there for less than a minute before Minako hit a golf ball through a glass window, then squealed and dragged them all back into the main school building.

Swept along with the group, Mamoru allowed himself to be tugged from activity to activity, occasionally passing Usagi one of the snacks from his jacket when she mentioned she was getting hungry. He noticed her expression becoming progressively more incredulous, especially after the Meiji macadamia chocolates, but so far, she hadn't asked him if he had a whole Conbini in there.

Things had started to feel suspiciously comfortable when Mamoru stopped short, reading the words "Feeling Couple 10 and 10" on a banner draped over a classroom door. Blushing furiously, he excused himself to go to the bathroom before Minako and her Cheshire cat grin could drag him into that room and pair him on a purported love machine with an obviously disinterested Usagi.

After all, she'd come with Seijuro, even if he'd completely abandoned her.

But when he emerged from the restroom, Minako was waiting outside, an aura of forced casualness obviously painted over everything from the way she stood to how she was playing with her hair to the way she blinked and said "Oh, _there_ you are!" when she saw him. "Usagi-chan and Mako-chan are just finishing up with the ring games, because we didn't want you to miss the Feeling Couple 10 and 10 game!"

Mamoru froze in horror as Minako led him back to the classroom that he'd just fled, Usagi and Makoto meeting them at the entryway.

"So, Usagi-chan, why don't you and Mamoru-san go try it first?" suggested Minako as Mamoru's stomach crumpled in on itself.

"Oh…" Usagi looked between him and Minako and then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I mean, I can do it with Mako-chan, why don't the two of you go together?"

Minako rolled her eyes, putting her hands on her hips with a disdainful sniff. "Well, since Mamoru-san is the only boy we have handy, how about all three of us go with him, and then we can mix and match among ourselves, too?"

Mamoru, meanwhile, had dropped his mouth open to protest, but Minako was already pushing him and Makoto through the doors into the classroom. Before the curtain closed behind him, he caught a glimpse of her leaning in to speak to Usagi in sibilant whispers.

Makoto shrugged and chuckled. "Minako-chan is something, isn't she?" she said with a smile, looking forward at the couple currently holding on to the metal contraptions of the game – the bars above their heads read 7 and 8, respectively. "We don't have to do it, if you don't want to."

Mamoru sighed, digging his hands into his jean pockets. "We may as well. Otherwise, we'll never hear the end of it."

Makoto giggled as the students running the stand gestured them forward. "Yeah, you've worked with Minako-chan in the past, all right."

Mamoru's eyebrows furrowed as he took a seat at the machine, grabbing the metal bar with both hands. "Wait, how do you know I worked with Minako-san?"

Makoto twisted her fingers in her ponytail with a sheepish grin before she grabbed the bar with her free hand. "Oh. Yeah, Usagi-chan mentioned that she and Minako-chan both know you. I don't remember how it came up."

There was a ding, and over their heads popped up two numbers – 4 on Makoto's side, 2 on Mamoru's.

"Oh, better luck next time," said one of the girls running the booth sympathetically as she ushered them out of their seats.

Minako rushed in to fill the empty chairs, tugging on Usagi's hand to pull her less-than-enthusiastic friend along.

Both girls took the metal bars in their hands, and Mamoru and Makoto watched as the machine dinged and flashed a 5 over Minako's head and a 7 over Usagi's.

"Oh, looks like you two have some potential-" the attendant started to say as Minako shook her head and hopped out of her chair, whispering in the girl's ear. The girl blinked in surprise and then stuttered, "Uh, okay."

Minako grinned big, grabbing Mamoru and dragging him back over to the machine. She pushed him into the chair and then resumed her own seat, grabbing the handle.

Taking the bar in his own hand, Mamoru's eyes were drawn to Usagi, who… was she rocking on her toes? His eyebrows furrowed as he watched Makoto loop her arm through Usagi's and smile at her friend.

He was jolted from his reverie by the ding of the machine, and he looked up to find a 3 on Minako's side and a 2 on his own.

Tilting his head slightly, Mamoru mentally calculated the probability that he'd get the same number twice in a row on a machine that clearly generated random numbers. _10%_ – _improbable, but not impossible._

Minako gestured for Makoto to come swap places with him, half-shoving Mamoru back out of the chair.

As he made his way to the corner to stand next to Usagi, it dawned on him that Minako had somehow convinced the booth attendants to let them play musical couples with the game machine for the foreseeable future.

Usagi was choking one pigtail between her fists as Mamoru stepped into the spot next to her. She turned her head toward him and opened her mouth, then closed it. There was a moment's silence before she repeated the motion again.

"Do you not like Minako-chan?" Her voice was quiet.

"What?" He looked at her, then at the device that was currently rating Makoto's feelings at 2 and Minako's at 3. He shook his head, bewildered. "Usagi, it's not real."

"Right," she said, biting her lower lip. "You probably wanted a higher score from her…"

He jerked to stare down at her, her blue eyes fixed on the machine but looking right through it.

His throat worked, remembering Minako's accusations: _Usagi thinks you like me_.

"Usa…"

But then Minako was there, ushering Usagi back over to the Feeling Couple machine and he'd missed his chance to pry, to correct her, to ask her why she would even care if she came here today with Seijuro.

His throat felt tight, and he unconsciously stepped away to make space between him and Minako as they watched Makoto and Usagi attempt to activate the machine.

His brain kept sticking on Minako's words from the night before, and his heart started to pound.

With a ding, Makoto's feelings were rated a 3, Usagi's a 6, and then Minako was shouldering a stumbling Mamoru towards the machine and… _Was Usagi blushing or was he hallucinating?_

Minako dumped him into the chair next to Usagi and she and Makoto stood back to watch. Mamoru wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans before taking the device in one hand and shooting Usagi what he hoped was a reassuring smile; his stomach was squeezing and his heart was threatening to beat right out of his chest and he was pretty sure it came out more like a grimace.

The machine dinged and Minako let out a triumphant 'whoop!'

Mamoru looked up and his pounding heart nearly stopped. 10 and 10.

_It's not real._ He reminded himself. _It's just some kind of coincidence._

It was a hell of a coincidence, though.

Usagi's entire face was splotched red as she tripped over her own feet and fell into the attendant in her haste to escape from the machine.

"Congratulations!" The girl running the booth said as she steadied Usagi. "You two are our first soulmate-level match all day!"

Usagi jerked her head to stare at Mamoru, who was similarly frozen on the opposite side of the carnival game.

_Soulmates._ The word reverberated in his ears and he wanted to lash out at the unfairness of it, to punish the attendant, Minako, anyone for putting him in this position where the thing he wanted most in the world would be dangled just outside of his reach.

"That thing doesn't work," he ground out, ears burning, as he buried his fists in his pants pockets. He looked up to meet Usagi's eyes, expecting to find her also protesting, but instead she turned to look at Makoto, hugging her arms around her body.

"Can we go get food now?" she asked in a small voice.

Makoto nodded, throwing a cryptic look in Mamoru's direction, before pressing a hand to the small of Usagi's back and guiding her out into the hallway.

Perplexed, Mamoru turned to Minako for an explanation of what the hell had just happened, but she was scowling at him.

He was pretty sure he heard her mutter "You fucking idiot," under her breath as she shoved past him to follow Makoto and Usagi.

Mamoru trudged after them, stepping out into the hallway in time to hear an announcement crackle over the PA system: "In a few moments, this year's queen of the T.A. Girl's Academy, Hino Rei, will begin her musical performance in the auditorium. We invite you to please bring your guests and come to the show."

His breathing stopped and his eyes went big and the next thing he was aware of was grabbing Minako by the arm and dragging her into a nearby empty classroom, away from Usagi and Makoto.

"This is _Rei's school_ ," he hissed in her ear, and Minako broke his grip on her arm with a hard glare.

"Chiba, I swear to god. If you keep getting in your own way, I'm going to set Usagi up with someone else and then laugh over your misery."

He flung out his hands in complete exasperation with the difficult blonde. "If you were planning to wake up Rei today, why even invite me in the first place?"

Minako's expression conveyed all the patience of a toddler on Christmas morning who'd just been told Santa was running late and they'd have to wait for their presents. "We're not waking up Rei. We haven't woken up Mako-chan, use your big college-boy brain for a change, I know it's in there somewhere. We're just checking in on her." As Mamoru opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand to silence him. "And I _didn't_ invite you. Usagi-chan did."

With an annoyed huff, she flipped her hair over her shoulders and stormed out of the classroom, leaving Mamoru alone, feeling a bit of an idiot.

He blew out a breath and emerged from the classroom to find Usagi, standing by herself in the hallway, apparently engrossed in reading a poster that was tacked up on the wall.

"Usagi-san?"

She jolted and looked up at him. "Hey! Sorry. Mako-chan went to get food and then Minako-chan kind of stormed off and I didn't want you to be like, all by yourself and not know where to find us."

His heart melted all over again, reminding him why being around her could hurt him and heal him all at the same time. She was the purest person he'd ever known, and no matter what he did he would never, not for a second, be worthy of her.

"Thank you," he said, although it felt like such an understatement.

She pointed her finger at a set of nearby double-doors, opening into the school auditorium. "Anyway, we should go grab some seats? The girls will find us in there."

He nodded mutely, following after her. The auditorium was filling up, and seats were quickly becoming hard to come by. Usagi lunged when she saw an opening, practically laying her body across a stretch of five adjacent seats to claim them.

"Here," Mamoru said, taking off his jacket to drape it over the two end seats and signal that they were being saved; he arranged the coat carefully, narrowly avoiding catching her face or her hair in the fabric.

Usagi smiled her approval as he took a few steps down the row and took a seat in the farthest chair in, the one right next to her feet.

He then mustered all his courage to pat the back of the chair next to him. "I bet this will be more comfortable," he forced out, nerves in tangles, and she let out the smallest giggle he'd ever heard from her before wheeling her feet back to the ground.

She slipped into the seat next to him, and his heartbeat sped up.

Once again, he was alone with Usagi and had no idea what to say. _Fail any tests lately?_ rose on his tongue out of anxiety and habit, and he choked it down.

But it was Usagi who broke the quiet between them, her fingers picking at the blue fabric of her uniform skirt.

"You said… you said that Natsumi-san wasn't the girl that you liked."

"…Right?" Mamoru tilted his head to look at her, wondering why Natsumi was on her brain, hours after they'd last seen her.

"So, there is someone… who you… like? Like that?" Mamoru flushed and ducked his head.

"Um. Well. Yes, there is."

"It's Minako-chan, right?" Usagi, always a quick speaker, began talking so rapidly it was almost hard to keep up with her words. "I mean, I don't want to tell you what to do or anything and I love her and all but I thought you should know that Minako-chan finds a new guy every week and doesn't want to get tied down and you could, um. You could find someone… someone who really wants to be with you. Instead." She paused her rapidfire monologue and twisted a streamer of hair around her hand, cutting a stripe across her palm. "I just wanted to tell you that. You know. Before you got too invested," she trailed off, and Mamoru nearly dragged a hand across his face in frustration.

"I don't think of Minako-san like that," he said, voice firm. "Honestly, she drives me a little batty, and not in a good way."

Usagi arched an eyebrow at him. "But you… she…?"

He shook his head. "It's not Minako-san."

She nodded, slowly like she was processing something, and then looked up at him. "And you guys worked together in the past? It just... seems like you know each other pretty well."

Mamoru shook his head with a snort. "Didn't _you_ only meet her a few weeks ago? You know how she is. Never met a stranger. Kind of like you."

She scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. "I guess that makes sense, since I kind of drive you batty, too."

His mouth went dry at that, but he didn't get to explain that she drove him batty in a good way – he wanted to, but he didn't have the words, and even as he tried to formulate them, she turned away from him to apologize to someone and explain that yes, these seats were saved. She waved bye to them, and then scanned the auditorium, looking for the rest of her group.

As she scanned, her small hand settled onto the armrest between their seats, and once he noticed it, Mamoru couldn't look away.

Her nails were short and rounded, painted a blush pink, and she wore a gold band on her middle finger. Her skin seemed milky against the rosiness of her fingernails, and the memory of her warm hand in his when they'd returned Manami to his mother the weekend before made him catch his breath.

_Could he hold her hand again? Here, where there was no baby, no excuse for it?_

His mouth went very dry as he imagined interlacing his fingers with hers, the look of startled surprise in her blue eyes as she looked up at him, and the way her shock might melt into pleasure when she realized that he wanted to be holding _her_ hand.

He already knew the softness of her skin, the press of her palm against his, but to take it again so boldly felt indecent. _But this…_

He swallowed. _But this was why he was here, wasn't it?_ He couldn't exactly make her fall in love with him if he was afraid to take the slightest risk.

Even so, he wasn't terribly surprised that when he finally managed to lift his hand out of his lap it felt so heavy it could have been made of lead. His fingers had locked up, trembling like he had a bad case of rigor mortis.

He dropped his hand back to his side with a painful flex of his palm, reasoning that no woman, least of all one as vibrant as Usagi, wanted to hold a corpse's hand.

His eyes were still fixed on the armrest between them; as he'd been wrestling with himself, Usagi had wrapped her fingers around the velvet support, hiding her painted nails from his view. Her ring winked at him in the half-light of the auditorium, taunted him with the barely remembered glimpse of a similar golden band he'd once slipped on a different finger, lifetimes ago.

_Where in the hell was Endymion's brash brand of overconfidence when he actually needed it?!_

He swallowed hard, flicking his eyes up to her face. She was looking away from him, oblivious to his torment; one yellow pigtail fell between her curled hand and her chest, and he felt the divide like a canyon.

_How silly of him, to think something as small as taking Usagi's hand could have any chance of ever grasping her heart._

He let out a pained exhale, and Usagi lifted her hand up, far from his reach, to wave with an exuberant cry of "Mako-chan!"

Forcing a smile to his lips, Mamoru held up his own awkward hand as the brunette appeared down the aisle from them, hands full of festival foods – Minako and Ami were assuredly close behind, and he did NOT need to hear Minako's opinions right now.

Makoto grinned as she took her seat. "Hey, you two look happy," she said, handing Usagi a little paper tray full of takoyaki.

Usagi beamed as she grabbed the container. "Are you kidding? Look at all the yummy food you just brought, and we get to watch a fun show, too? Today is great!"

She turned and held out the takoyaki to Mamoru, offering him a toothpick as Makoto set down the other little trays of food she carried.

Mamoru took one of the octopus balls, more to appease Usagi than out of actual hunger, and looked up to see Ami coming down the aisle.

"Oh, here you all are!" she said as she slid into the aisle to join them. "How were all the activity booths?"

"Fun!" chirped Usagi. "Makoto completely killed the cake contest!"

"Well of course!" Ami said with a grin. "Oh, and you even got some curried rice," she added, picking up one of the little cardboard baskets Makoto had balanced on an armrest.

"Yup!" said Usagi with a big smile, splitting a pair of wooden chopsticks, a tray of yakisoba in her lap. "Dinner and a show, isn't today the best?"

"It has been most illuminating," Ami agreed. "I learned a lot from the science exhibits upstairs. Mamoru-san, I can recommend a few presentations I think you would enjoy, if you wanted to take a look before the end of the festival."

"Uh, thanks, Ami-san," he said, knowing that he wouldn't go look at any of the exhibits. Usagi would have no interest in going to look at a bunch of educational booths – there was, after all, a reason that Ami had gone to look at them by herself in the first place – and Usagi was the entire reason he'd come to the festival.

The lights in the auditorium went down as the girls split chopsticks and passed around food, and Mamoru saw Usagi's mouth pull into a frown as she rose to as tall a height as she could manage while still balancing her food – already mostly eaten – in her lap. She turned slightly to scan over the heads of the crowd. _Minako was still missing,_ Mamoru realized, and he frowned too.

Usagi was seated right next to him, so the idea of the shenanigans Minako might get into running around the festival unsupervised didn't quite make him nauseous, but whatever the blonde was up to likely didn't bode well if she was willing to leave her friends in the lurch to do it.

But then Usagi scooped up the little paper tray in one hand, climbing up on her knees in her seat and waving her free hand, stage-whispering "Mina-P!"

Mamoru turned his head to see the red-bowed blonde making her way down the aisle to them and blew out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding.

_Disaster averted._

Tension drained out of Mamoru's body with the missing senshi accounted for, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as Usagi played telephone down the aisle, giggling at whatever message it was that Makoto passed back to her. The lights on the stage – blues and greens and reds – came up as Minako slid into the seat at the end of their row.

Mamoru looked away from Usagi and up at the two people who suddenly appeared on stage, decked out in exorbitant and ridiculous squid costumes – and blinked. _Was that…?_

But Usagi leaned in his direction as he struggled to process. "Is that Seijuro-kun and Natsumi-san?" she whispered, and her warm breath pooling against the shell of his ear had his brain floundering for a whole other reason.

He nodded a little helplessly, mesmerized by the way Usagi's fingers scrunched the fabric of her skirt. His stuttering brain once again latched onto the idea of taking her hand into his, and he tried to shake off the foolish and insensitive thought – after all, her date was standing _right in front of them_ , although he'd changed into some kind of clown prince costume in the time Mamoru had been sitting and staring at Usagi's hands.

"Seijuro-kun is the one who invited me to the festival today, you know?" Usagi said, and Mamoru pressed his lips together. _He didn't want to hear about that._

"I think he wanted it to be a date, but…" Usagi exhaled, and he again looked down to watch the way her fingers squirmed in her lap. "I asked the girls to come, too?"

Mamoru's head jerked so he could look at her face, his heartbeat ratcheting up. He completely missed the costume change that turned Seijuro into a jedi and Natsumi into discount Princess Leia. _Usagi had asked the girls to crash her date? Why? And why was she telling_ _ **him**_ _this?_

"I don't know how he heard about the festival in the first place, I mean, none of us go here. And you go to Keio, so…" Unsure how to respond to that, Mamoru continued to pretty much just gape at Usagi, glad for the interruption of a voice over the microphone thanking the Gingas for being such good sports and showing us what is 'in' in alien fashion this year – and now, on to the main event!

But out in the audience, Mamoru's silence stretched and Usagi's small hand curled into a fist.

Rei appeared on the stage in a dramatic flourish, wearing a short red costume and positively glowing as she waved to the crowd. Several girls catcalled, and Mamoru's spine stiffened.

He knew rationally that she couldn't see him, hidden as he was in the audience, but knowing that Rei didn't remember, knowing their particular history, knowing how Rei's brashness untempered by affection might hurt Usagi… His eyes, for once, slid past Usagi to instead send a glare at Minako. _If she was so confident that Rei would wake up on her own, why couldn't this excursion have waited until after?_

Up on the stage, Rei's singing abruptly ground to a halt, and her head turned to look over her shoulder.

Mamoru's head suddenly felt it was going to split in half, and Usagi's hand was in his without conscious thought, jerking her to her feet. "We need to go. Now."

"Wha-?"

But too late. A pink-haired Cardian burst onto the scene, screaming "Siiiiiiiren!"

Minako and Ami shared a look before bolting, and Mamoru paused only to grab his coat from where he'd left it draped over the seats at the end of the aisle, steering Makoto and dragging Usagi along behind him. The mermaid scattered a golden dust across the theater, and Mamoru tossed his jacket over Usagi's head just in time to stop the particles from settling on her skin.

Nearly out of the theater, he braced an arm against Makoto's back and shoved her through the auditorium doors as everyone else around them began to collapse. Blinking through his own wooziness – a bit of the dust had landed on him, after all – Mamoru pulled Usagi out of the auditorium just in time to hear a scream.

He peered through the crack in the doors to see that the monster had grabbed Minako, still in her civilian form, and wrapped her up in miles of pink hair. The blonde shrieked as the monster sucked energy from her, and Usagi went rigid at the sound.

"We have to go back in!"

"No!"

Makoto cupped a hand to her forehead, unsteady on her feet after a small amount of sparkling dust had gotten on her in their madcap escape from the room. "Usagi-chan, what could we even do?"

"I don't know, but we have to try! Minako-chan and Ami-chan are still in there! Not to mention all those other people!"

Mamoru's fingers dug into the leather of his jacket, still draped around Usagi's shoulders. He couldn't become Tuxedo Mask if she was going to charge into the auditorium the second he stepped away. "I'm gonna go look for help, but Usagi, you have to promise me first that you're going to stay here, where it's safe."

Usagi shook his hands off of her, shooting him a look that was equal parts exasperation and hurt. "God, first Tuxedo Mask and now you?! I'm a klutz, not useless, and I want to help!"

"Usagi, these are _monsters_. This isn't a _game_ , there are very real consequences if you mess up here!"

"I know there are consequences! That's why I have to _do_ something! How am I supposed to just stand here and wait when I know other people are getting hurt, maybe killed? How is that _fair?_ "

"There are people to take care of that-" As if to prove his point, a cry of "Mercury Bubble Spray!" drifted out from between the doors. He reached out to prop the door open, to show Usagi that her senshi had this, that she could rest, that she could be safe.

Instead, he threw out a hand to catch her around the belly and stop her darting past him and into the room.

Sailor Mercury had just blasted the mermaid's hair clean off, freeing a drained Minako who immediately collapsed. Next to her, pale but standing, was Hino Rei, untransformed but clearly furious.

"Unforgivable!" Rei screamed, pulling an ofuda from some unknown location (her sleeve, perhaps?). She began a Shinto chant before hurling the slip of paper into the Cardian's face, stunning it.

Mamoru smiled slightly despite himself – some things, it appeared, never changed.

"Usagi," Mamoru said, voice strained as he looked down at the girl still squirming in his arms. "They've got this. They'll be okay if you stay here where it's safe. _Please_."

She looked up at him, eyes big and her head shaking from side-to-side. No.

"Mars Power Make-Up!" Mamoru's head snapped towards the door and he shuffled, moving his body to block Usagi's view. Makoto was still rubbing a tired hand over her face, clearly flagging and barely paying attention to the events unfolding on the other side of the double doors. _At least he didn't have to worry about that._

He heard another cry of pain – this one Ami's – and then Rei's voice bellowed "Fire Soul Burn!"

The mermaid wailed as she was engulfed in fire, her screech seeming to wake up every fallen body in the room. Even Makoto perked up, and Mamoru felt the wave of fatigue that had been weighing on him recede.

The smoking rectangle of cardboard floated to the ground, and Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury leapt into the rafters to detransform as Mamoru finally released his hold on Usagi. She dashed immediately into the room, to Minako's side, taking her friend's hand in her own and fussing over her – attention Minako appeared to enjoy.

The rest of the festival attendees milled about, the attack having created a hubbub; a confused murmuring settled over the crowd, and Mamoru and Makoto had to shove their way through people who were fleeing the scene to make it back to Usagi and Minako.

The crowd thinned out a bit, and they were finally able to reunite with the group. Ami had swept in from nowhere in particular, and let out a little exhale of relief to see them.

The voice over the microphone came up again: "Sorry for the confusion, everyone!" She said. "We will be resuming momentarily, so if you'd like to stay and finish the day, please retake your seats! Those of you who would rather go home, please have a safe trip!"

The girls and Mamoru shuffled back into their row, and as they did, Makoto mused aloud. "Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars, huh?" Ami and Minako exchanged glances and Makoto dug a gentle elbow into Usagi's ribs with a wink. "Hey, remember that cute Tuxedo Mask weirdo? I wonder where he was for this?"

Usagi flushed to the roots, her shoulders rising up towards her ears. "I'm just glad it's not him fighting evil alone anymore," she said before her eyes darted to Mamoru. "I think that would be really scary, to have to do that all by yourself."

Mamoru felt his lip curve up slightly as they settled back into their seats. After months of doing just that, even if they were months that she couldn't remember, he wasn't surprised that Usagi wouldn't wish the same on anyone else.

The lights in the theater dimmed, and Rei reappeared on the stage. Her bearing was slightly different – there was a purpose to the way she stood that hadn't quite been there before – but she launched into her performance with enthusiasm. The crowd oohed and ahhed and clapped at appropriate times, and at the end of her performance, Rei clapped a hand to her mouth and threw a kiss in the direction of the senshi.

As the lights in the theater came up, the voice over the PA system came on again: "We hope you've enjoyed our school showcase! We invite you to join us out on the track for the day's farewell ceremony and bonfire."

The girls rose to their feet, and Usagi jolted, looking down in the realization that she still wore Mamoru's jacket around her shoulders, oversized on her small frame. She moved to slide it off and hand it back to him, but Mamoru held up a hand to stop her instead.

"Keep it," he said. "It's chilly outside."

She blinked, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows, before she slid her arms into the sleeves. And then she laughed, dropping her hand into the front breast pocket and pulling out a Strawberry Sandwich, a Umaibo Stick, and a Crunky Bar. "Is this the last of it?" she asked, a note of wonder in her voice as she patted around to see if she could find any other snacks tucked away in the coat's pockets.

Mamoru couldn't help his little snort, falling into step next to her as they made their way out to the track. "It was an all-day festival…" he said by way of explanation.

"Yeah, but I haven't seen you eat a single thing!" she protested, holding out the Crunky Bar as if to prove her point, and he shrugged. He hadn't brought the snacks for himself, after all.

"Oooh, Usagi-chan, are you not going to eat that?" teased Minako, reaching for the candy bar.

Usagi's face sobered instantly, but she dutifully offered the snack to her friend. Mamoru watched Minako pocket the candy instead of tearing into it, as Usagi might have done.

Then, Minako strode past them and threw the doors open with her signature dramatics, leading them all out onto the schoolyard. There was a small stage set up behind the school and a square tower of stacked wood carefully arranged in the center of the asphalt, students standing at the ready to set it alight.

One of the teachers made a few closing remarks, thanking them all for attending, and then the bonfire was lit in a roaring blaze, to the delight of those assembled – especially Usagi.

Their little group clustered around a bench next to the track to watch the fire, and Mamoru hadn't quite figured out yet how he'd been the one that ended up sharing the seat next to Usagi.

Ami, Minako, and Makoto had just gone to one of the kiosks to grab hot beverages – cocoa for the girls, coffee for Mamoru – when Rei made her way over to them, sparing him from having to think of a conversation starter.

"Usagi-san, right?" Rei said, and Usagi looked up at her with surprised eyes.

"Yes, hi," Usagi said, tilting her head slightly in faint recognition.

"You probably don't remember, but I'm Hino Rei? We met briefly at-"

"Yeah, at the Shatori Mikan audition," she said, spine going just slightly rigid.

"Right, I'm sorry about that." Rei blew out a breath, smoothing her hands over her skirt. "I know it probably doesn't help, but that was a bad day for me."

Usagi's nod was hesitant, but the tension drained out of her like a floodgate.

"Anyway, I'm friends with Minako-chan, and I was hoping that you might like to be friends, too?"

Usagi's whole body perked up like it had when Mamoru first offered her the Pucca that morning. "Sure, I'd like that!" she said.

"Great! I do still have some duties I have to fulfill tonight for the festival, but maybe we can get together at Crown after school sometime soon?"

Usagi nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, please!" She reached up, sweeping a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "By the way, that song you sang earlier was so pretty, I was surprised I had never heard it before!"

Rei's entire face glowed warmly. "Actually, that's because I wrote it," she said, and Usagi gaped.

"That's so cool! I can't believe you wrote something like that, do you think you can teach me?"

Rei laughed sheepishly. "Maybe, but it was a lot of hard work. I don't think there's much more songwriting in my future."

Usagi nodded seriously like she understood this. "Still, that's really awesome that you did that in the first place, Rei-chan!"

Rei grinned. "Thanks, Usagi-chan. I'll see you around, okay?" Usagi blushed and nodded, and Rei's eyes drifted over to Mamoru. She gave a nod, more like a little bow, and said "It's nice to see you again, Mamoru-kun."

Mamoru nodded. "You too," he replied, and somehow felt more than heard Usagi's clipped inhale next to him.

But then Rei was gone, and Mamoru was turning his head to look at Usagi, who had pulled her fingers up into the too-big sleeves of his jacket.

For the Nth time that day, Usagi had gone from vivacious to oddly quiet in the span of only a few seconds, and it was really starting to nag at him.

Usagi wasn't _supposed_ to experience that kind of mood whiplash, she was supposed to be _happy_. And if he couldn't figure out what was bothering her, he wouldn't be able to fix it.

"You okay?" he asked in a low voice, perhaps too low for her to hear over Minako's loud chatter as the girls returned with a round of hot chocolates, because she didn't answer him.

Ami pressed his coffee into his hand as Makoto passed Usagi her cocoa, which she wrapped her fingers around with a weak smile.

"Usagi-chan, did I just see you talking to Rei-chan?" Minako asked, and Usagi nodded.

"Yeah, she's gonna meet us at the Crown sometime this week," she said.

"Oh, that's nice," said Ami, clearly weighting her words so they came across as uncomfortably awkward, like the person her classmates had assumed she was before Usagi had drawn her out of her shell. "It will be fun to make a new friend."

Mamoru shot Ami a look, widening his eyes to convey she was laying it on too thick.

Ami shrugged in response, arching both eyebrows and taking a long drink from her to go cup before glancing meaningfully to Usagi. Horrified, Mamoru turned back to her, but Usagi wasn't looking at them at all.

Mako nodded, taking a sip of her cocoa. "Yeah, I think today was a really good day. Even if we misplaced the Gingas early on, it looks like they still had fun too."

Ami laughed. "Yes, some of those costumes were quite something, weren't they?"

All the girls chuckled, Usagi's laugh atypically quiet, and Mamoru's fingers tightened around the little bamboo cup his coffee had come in.

He wished he hadn't given Usagi his jacket now, because he was out of treats and at a loss for how else to cheer her up.

Usagi took a sip of her cocoa, sliding her feet along the grass, as Mamoru blurted out the first thing he thought of.

"You still don't have my phone number, do you?"

Four heads swiveled to stare at him in perplexion, but he was relieved that at least Usagi's face looked confused now, not sad.

"Uh, no, Mamoru-san," Minako drawled. "I don't believe that _anyone here_ has your phone number."

"Yeah, uh. Usagi-san, just. When you came over… the other weekend, you know, with Manami-chan and everything, Ami-san mentioned that you didn't give your mom my phone number because I didn't give it to you, and I just thought I could… give it to you now. If you want it." He paused only long enough to register and cringe at his own words. "Sorry, it's been a long day, forget I said anything."

He trailed off and took a sip of his coffee to mask his embarrassment, slightly hurt when he saw Ami and Minako share an amused glance out of the corner of his eye.

There was a pause – Usagi looked a bit taken aback – before Makoto said. "Why don't we all exchange numbers? That way you and I can set up a little cake-decorating lesson and Ikuko-mama can have Mamoru-san's number for the next time Usagi-chan goes over there?"

There was a chorus of agreement, and Ami pulled a pen and a small notebook out of her bag ('so I could take notes on the science exhibits,' she said by way of explanation). Ripping out several sheets, Ami wrote her own number on each before she passed them along. "Add your name and number to each sheet and then pass the stack," she explained, and they dutifully followed her instructions.

When Mamoru finally received his precious little slip of paper, covered in an assortment of handwritings with one very important set of numbers at the bottom, capped with a doodle of a bunny, his hands were trembling slightly. He carefully folded it up and slid it into his pocket, already working to memorize the ten digits – not that he ever expected to have reason to dial them.

Makoto was whispering something in Usagi's ear when he looked up again and found Usagi's lips had finally curved into a genuine smile.

"Chocolate," she said, in a voice that made it sound like this should have been the most obvious thing in the world, and Mamoru managed to turn his affectionate chuckle into a cough at the last moment.

"Well, ladies and Chiba," Minako said eventually, clapping her hands onto Ami and Makoto's shoulders, canting out one hip. "Time for all of us to head home and get some rest, don't you think?"

Reluctantly, Mamoru peeled himself away from the firelight, though he knew that night he'd dream about how it had made Usagi's hair glow like sunset. He trudged with the senshi to the school gates, and reluctantly waved when he realized that no one was heading in his direction.

Usagi paused to finally remove his jacket, holding it out to him, and his rational side triumphed over his desire to let her keep it, to lay visual claim on her so other men – so _Seijuro-kun_ – would know to back off. Instead, he took the coat from her without a word and shrugged it on, trying not to inhale her scent even though he was inundated in it the entire walk home.

* * *

His phone was ringing when he walked through his front door, which was unusual – no one but Motoki ever called him. Then again, he had just given his phone number out to four new people.

_Makoto was probably calling to nail down that baking date she'd suggested_ , he concluded as he quickly changed out of his shoes and dropped his keys on top of the cabinet in the genkan.

He picked up the phone with his usual curt "This is Chiba Mamoru," and was surprised to be met with dead air. _I guess it was a wrong number?_

He moved to return the phone to the cradle, but then his heart lurched when he heard a soft but unmistakable voice coming from the handset.

"Sorry to call so late, Mamoru-san."

"Usagi? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?!"

"Oh. No. I just wanted to make sure it was the right number. You know, that you didn't give me a fake one."

His heart nearly broke at the idea that she would _ever_ suspect that of him.

"Why would I give you a fake number, Usagi-san?"

He could almost see her shrug. "I dunno. Why would you give me your real number?"

_Because there's nothing in this world I'd rather hear than your voice._

Chest twinging with the desire to actually _say_ that, he sat down on his bed. "You're my friend, remember? We just spent the whole day together. Unless… did you give _me_ a fake number?"

"What?" Her incredulity faded into a giggle. "No!"

"I don't know, Usagi, I think I better test that," he drawled, and hung up the phone.

He waited for a slow count of five, then dialed those ten numbers from memory.

The phone rang only once before her voice sang through the line "Hi hi!"

"See, you gave me _your_ real number," he said.

"Of course I did!" She sounded offended.

"Uh huh. So, you're saying you think I'm a liar?"

"No!"

"Or you think I don't know my own phone number because my only friends are books, and books can't make phone calls?"

"Mamo-! Don't be mean!" But she was laughing through her protests.

"Or... you think that you like me more than I like you?" _He knew_ _ **that**_ _wasn't true._

Her pause was long enough to make even him uncomfortable – were it not for the lack of dial tone, he would have thought she'd hung up on him – but then her voice was restrained as it came through the line. "You haven't liked me much in the past."

"Usagi, I…"

"Sorry, forget I said anything. It's in the past."

"No, Usagi, I…" He licked his lips, praying that for once, _just this once_ , he would find the right words. "I always liked you. You just, you hit the nail on the head early on, I don't have a lot of friends and I'm not good at it. But that had nothing to do with _you_."

"Yeah. Telling me to watch where I throw things and to be more ladylike, that sounds like it had nothing to do with me." Even without the words themselves, he could tell by her cutting tone that she didn't believe him, and he couldn't stand it.

"Usagi, I always – _always_ – wanted to be your friend, from the very first time you hit me in the face with a failed test."

She snorted. "Sure you did."

"I did." His voice was all firmness even as his insides trembled. "I'll prove it."

"How?"

"Think of it this way: Wouldn't you want to be friends with you?"

"Well, yeah, but-" He cut her off.

"And would you want to be friends with me?"

Her voice was indignant. "I am friends with you!"

"But would you – No, _did_ you want to be?"

The line was quiet – the kind of silence that hurt his heart with how honest it was.

He finally filled that stillness with his own words, more honest than he'd normally allow himself to be just to drown out that crushing quiet. "That's how I know that you don't like me more than I like you."

There was another pause, in which he thought he heard her clear her throat once before she finally spoke. "...I should let you go to bed. It's late."

"O-okay. Good night, Usagi-san."

"Good night, Mamoru-san."

A moment passed, in which neither of them hung up.

"And, uh, feel free to call any time," he added, feeling a little pathetically desperate.

"Any time?" she said, her voice taking on a much more familiar note of teasing.

"Any time. You have school during all my class times, and you have a much more active social life than I do. If you're at home, I'm at home."

She laughed. "Well, now I'll have to see if I can catch you at a time you're not home."

His heart, bruised after her telling silence, leapt again in his chest at the idea of Usagi regularly calling him. If that was a possibility, his nonexistent social life might shrink even further as he sat at home by the phone, just hoping it would ring.

"I don't know about that. I seem to recall that I 'do nothing but drink coffee and study.' You might be setting yourself up for failure here."

He could hear her fingers drum against the handset as she giggled on the other side of the phone. "Well, what do I get if I do manage to call you when you're not home?"

_Anything you want_. "Uh… what would you want?"

"Um... Dinner?"

"I already offered to cook for you, Odango Atama," he laughed.

"Well," she said crossly, "That's what I want. Plus bragging rights."

He shook his head. "Okay. If you manage to call when I'm not home, you get bragging rights. But you can also just come over and I'll cook for you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, and he was pretty sure that the smile in her voice was more than just his brain playing tricks on him.

"Okay. I really have to go now, Mama is up at the top of the stairs staring at me. I'll talk to you soon!"

"Soon," he repeated, and she hung up, leaving him with a mess of confusing feelings and a dial tone in his ear.


	8. Of Course Seijuro is Not Tuxedo Mask, His Hair Isn't Even the Right Color

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, so R is for Reverse is now officially the most-engaged-with piece of media I've ever posted, beating out things that have been live for more than a decade?! I am so blown away by the love and support I have received from y'all, all the sweet (sometimes intimidatingly so!) reviews, the fav's, the follows, the kudo's! I really do feel so loved, and I'm thrilled that people want to come on this ride with me.
> 
> Big hugs and all the love to my beta, FloraOne, who is fabulous, consistently showers me in support, and convinced me to split chapters 7 and 8 into separate chapters instead of lumping them together for lack of Mamoru – you have her to thank almost entirely for the existence of this chapter!
> 
> Now, please enjoy way-too-much dialogue!

"So you see how differently the frosting spreads when the cake has had time to cool?" Makoto asked, knife in hand, and Mamoru nodded, watching the brunette's actions intently.

Makoto had just given him a rundown in fondant, which he personally found to be a rather distasteful substance, but Makoto had (unpromptedly) reassured him that Usagi was a fan.

His double-chocolate cake was nearly completed, and he had been relieved to discover while it was baking in his freshly purchased Balmuda oven (and then cooling on the counter) that he and Makoto turned out to have several solid topics of conversation, including martial arts, which supermarkets were currently having good sales, what a pain in the neck social workers could be, and plant care. Though it had been nearly four hours since she'd arrived, the time had flown by with only one or two awkward lulls in the conversation.

As Makoto set down the jar of spreadable chocolate fudge, Mamoru picked up a pastry bag filled with pink frosting. "So you just use these things to make designs on the cake?"

"Right, first you pick the nozzle you want and then you draw. You'll want to make sure that you apply even pressure, though, or else you'll get misshapen designs." Makoto grabbed a plate off the counter and demonstrated inconsistent pressure, drawing a splotchy flower. She then repeated the same pattern, but on the cake itself, creating a perfect pink rose.

"Here, you try," she said, handing the pastry bag to Mamoru.

His rose wasn't perfectly proportioned like Makoto's had been, but it was unmistakably a rose. Then, unable to resist, Mamoru drew two long ears and a smiling face on the side of his cake – a little bunny.

Makoto smirked, but before she could comment his phone started ringing; sending the device by his bedside a longing look – after all, it could be Usagi – he instead minded his manners, preparing to let the machine pick up instead.

But Makoto shook her head and waved a hand. "You should get that," she said, and Mamoru's relieved answering smile as he walked the short distance from the kitchen to his bed was also a bit sheepish.

He picked up the phone, glancing to Makoto once more for confirmation that she wasn't offended before he said "Hello?"

"Oh shoot, you're at home!" Her voice was a whine through his telephone receiver, and he didn't even try to fight his goofy smile.

"It's 9:30pm on a Wednesday, Odango, where else would I be?"

"I dunno, study group? A date? The library? There are options!"

He chuckled. "No, actually Makoto-san came over and is giving me tips on how to properly frost a cake."

Makoto leaned over, calling in Mamoru's direction "Hi, Usagi-chan!" at the same time Usagi squealed "Mako-chan! Tell her I say hi!"

"She says hi," Mamoru said, mostly to both girls, and then turned his full attention back to the phone. "Had you ever heard of a cooling rack before?"

"A whatsit?" He could picture the furrow between her eyebrows and felt his mouth stretch into a smile as he eased onto his bed.

"A cooling rack. Evidently, only a complete _novice_ would attempt any serious baking without one at their disposal.

Her giggle bubbled through his body, sending tiny fissions along his skin. "Well it's a good thing you know about it now, then!" she said. "You know, Mamoru-san-"

But Mamoru was jerked away from Usagi when Makoto loudly cleared her throat.

"Actually, Mamoru-san, I was gonna take off," Makoto said in a stage-whisper, gesturing at the door with a thumb. "You're pretty much done with the cake at this point anyway, and I have to make lunch before school tomorrow."

"Oh-" Mamoru lowered the phone from his ear and Makoto, face slightly flushed, waved a hand. "I can see myself out, don't worry," she said, grabbing her supplies before stepping down into the genkan. As she swapped Ami's blue slippers for her street shoes, Mamoru allowed Usagi's story about Haruna-sensei to draw him back in, to the point that he didn't even notice when Makoto closed the door behind her.

* * *

_Beep, beep, beep._

Mamoru blinked open tired eyes, and realized with a jerk that the tinny sound interrupting his professor's lecture was not in actuality his alarm clock. Instead, he'd dozed off in class for the first time... probably ever, really.

Even drowsy, he didn't regret his decision to stay up the night before – hearing Usagi tell him all about her big test the next day and asking him to help quiz her on the English words so she'd remember was well worth it. Usagi's mother had apparently gone to bed early and didn't come and force her daughter off the phone, so they'd been up talking until nearly midnight – normally, he rarely stayed up past 11pm unless he was out on Tux business.

_Beep, beep, beep._

He started when he realized he _did_ actually recognize that sound. It was coming from his pant's pocket, and it could not possibly herald anything good.

He slid from his seat, hoping to slip into the hall to check his communicator, but instead found Professor Saito glaring up at him with crossed arms.

"Chiba, you're a college student now. Video games and other devices are not permitted during my lectures."

"Sorry, Saito-sensei. It won't happen again," he promised.

"See that it doesn't," the older man answered, as Mamoru winced when the device beeped again.

"If you can't turn the thing off, you can wait in the hall into class is over," snapped the professor, and Mamoru's ears burned as he grabbed his bag and sidled out of the auditorium.

He jerked the communicator out of his pocket and jammed one of the star buttons with his thumb, seeing Mizuno Ami come into focus in the little window.

"Is Usagi okay?" Mamoru's voice was harsh, his patience already worn thin from his professor's unceremonious dismissal.

Ami blinked annoyed blue eyes up at him. "She's not hurt, if that's what you mean. You know we wouldn't allow that to happen."

He exhaled slightly, fully aware that Ami was right but too put out by the inconvenience to concede the point.

"No, Mamoru-san, she forgot her lunch, and I didn't find out until after I had finished mine."

Mamoru shrugged. "Didn't Makoto-san make a big lunch today? She told me last night she had something elaborate planned."

"She did, but she shared it with Seijuro-kun."

Mamoru's stomach landed somewhere around his feet. "She what?"

"Yes, Mako-chan got it in her head somehow that Seijuro-kun is Tuxedo Mask, and since… well, in any event, she wanted to find out a little more about him, so she made him lunch and ushered him off to eat somewhere private. So Usagi-chan didn't get any of Mako-chan's food either."

"Okay…" Mamoru said, his eyebrows furrowing and his brain still spinning over the idea that Makoto was making lunches for Usagi's crush. "Why call me, then?"

Ami made a low grumbling sound unlike any he'd ever heard from her before. He thought, somewhere in the growl, he might have made out the words 'Minako' and 'hopeless,' but he wasn't certain.

"Mamoru-san, you showed up to a school festival with 11,000 yen worth of snacks and now you're attempting to claim that you don't know what to do when I call you and tell you Usagi-chan forgot her lunch?"

His snort was disbelieving. Not at her point; just at the fact that it had come from Ami-san.

"I can be home in… thirty minutes."

"The school day ends in forty-five, so if you intend to stage a dramatic delivery, I'd suggest making the trip as quickly as possible." Ami clicked her communicator off without saying goodbye.

Mamoru exhaled, deciding to focus on the task he'd been given rather than Ami's uncharacteristic impatience with him. His eyes flicked out the window to a nearby roof, and he stared hard at it, wheels in his brain rotating.

If he planned to make the trip in time to both prepare food for Usagi _and_ meet her at the school gates, it would be easier if he went as Tuxedo Mask. But he'd never transformed before without either the pull of Sailor Moon or the pounding in his head that signalled a Cardian attack, and the idea of doing it now felt. Well.

A little unethical, especially with his bike parked right outside the lecture hall.

Deciding to skip the tail end of his lecture, he hoisted his bag across his body and made his way out to the parking lot to get a head start going home. How else would he have time to finish making tsukemen before Juuban Middle dismissed for the day?

* * *

The cake Makoto had helped him with the night before was one thing, wrapped up and ready to go on the coffee table, but he'd realized too late that he didn't have a convenient way to transport tsukemen.

He was rifling through his cupboards, realizing for the first time that he spent way too many meals at the Crown or picking up Conbini food between classes, and he didn't own a single cute bento or lunchbox or anything suitable for carrying homemade food for Usagi. Mentally filing that fact away, he pulled out a regular shallow bowl – he could cover it with something, right? – and looked at the pots full of food on his stove.

He was about to begin moving the contents over when there suddenly came a loud pounding on his door.

Half-jumping out of his skin, his eyes flicked to the clock, and he groaned. His search for a bento box had pushed him just a few minutes past the time that Usagi's school got out – long enough for a hurrying senshi to make the journey. An annoyed Sailor Mercury probably stood on his doorstep, ready to chastise him for letting this ready-made opportunity to steal Usagi's heart slip by.

Dropping his head to his chest with a deep exhale, steeling himself for Minako-levels of criticism, he padded to the front door and opened it.

His mouth dropped open when he found not Ami, but an out-of-breath Usagi standing outside.

"Oh no!" she cried. "Ami-chan said your last class didn't get out until 3:45! I thought for sure if I ran, I would be able to beat you home!"

He stared at the girl on his doorstep. _What…?_

"I know that I haven't caught you not at home yet, but Mamoru-san, I'm…" As he suddenly unraveled her implication, the words that she hadn't said, his eyes widened in understanding, confusion, and the slightest bit of foolish hope.

Wordlessly, he pushed the door the rest of the way open and gestured with his head.

"My last class was cancelled today, so I came home to make tsukemen. Come have some."

Her eyes lit up, and she moved so quickly, dropping her shoes and slipping on her pink house slippers, that Mamoru was sure that if he'd blinked, he would have thought she'd teleported from the front door to her spot at his table.

"Oh thank you, Mamoru-san!" she exclaimed, dramatically swooning against the wooden table as he hurried to the kitchen and began dishing noodles and broth into smaller bowls. "I forgot my lunch and I've been so hungry all day!"

Mamoru set a bowl of noodles and chopsticks down before her, pulling his hands away quickly to keep them out of the danger zone. He then set down the bowls of broth in the middle of the table before stepping back into the kitchenette as Usagi laid into the food, devouring noodles with aplomb.

Quickly filling two more dishes, he returned, setting one in front of Usagi and picking up his own set of chopsticks to begin eating – he hadn't actually planned to eat any of the tsukemen, but now that Usagi had shown up at his door unexpectedly, he was glad that she regularly ate enough for a small army and he could cover up the fact that he'd made this all for her by eating a little serving of his own.

Usagi paused suddenly, a noodle still dangling from her lips, and stared at the fresh bowl he'd set out for her. "What…?"

He shrugged. "You said that you were very hungry," he said. "And what kind of host would I be if I didn't make sure that you had enough?"

Her cheeks burned fuchsia, and she slurped the noodle into her mouth. "I'm sorrrrry, Mamoru-san!" she wailed, voice rising in pitch with each new word. "I'm so rude! I invited myself over and then I started eating all of your food, and maybe you had plans that I interrupted!"

"Usagi! Usagi, calm down!" But she continued to flail and babble, until he finally grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands to his chest in an effort to still her – and she did, instantly.

She blinked up at him with wide eyes and a just-slightly parted mouth. "Mamo…?"

He dropped her hands like they'd caught fire. "Sorry, you were…" He trailed off, picking up his chopsticks so he'd have something to do with his hands. "How was your test?" he asked, in an effort to change the subject.

She twisted her fingers together, looking at him oddly, before she picked up her chopsticks and started to eat again. This time, she ate in a more subdued manner, with less slurping and fewer flying noodles.

"Okay, I think," she said after a moment, setting her utensils down on the table, directly next to the chopstick rest he'd put there for her. "I answered all the questions and I had like a minute to spare, but I guess I won't know for sure until I get it back on Monday."

He nodded, focusing his attention on eating rather than trying to fill the silence. Usagi was better at doing that, anyway.

She moved on to her second bowl, the first having been set back on the table emptied of all but a few lingering noodle scraps; Mamoru was pretty sure he saw her furtively glance at him before she picked up the new dish, but he didn't comment.

"Mamoru-san… this is a lot of food for just one person to eat," Usagi finally said in a small voice as she got towards the bottom of her second bowl, and Mamoru shrugged.

"Were you… were you making it for someone? That girl you like, maybe?"

He pressed his lips together, suddenly unsure of how to answer. Because the truth was tantamount to a confession, and one he was certain Usagi wasn't ready to hear.

"...I tend to make a lot of food," he said, weighing his words carefully. "I don't mind eating leftovers when I have them."

"Oh. I was just… because like, Umino-kun loves making lunches for Naru-chan because they're going out, and I just thought maybe… you thought that you could do the same thing, show the girl that you like that you like her by giving her some food."

The urge to slam his face into the table was fast, fleeting, and one he managed to ignore.

"...I'll keep that in mind for the future," he said dryly, getting up to grab a knife and plates from his kitchen.

He returned and unwrapped the cake, carefully cutting a large slice from the side of the cake with his little rabbit on it.

"Though, now that you mention it," he said, casually, as though all his hopes weren't hinged on her response to this question, "Makoto-san said she was making lunch for Seijuro-san today…"

"Whaaaaat?! I have to go!" Usagi jumped up from the table, leaving her untouched slice of cake still in Mamoru's hand.

"What?" Mamoru jerked, but she was already in the genkan, swapping blush slippers for her black school shoes.

"I have to go make sure they're not on a date! Seijuro-kun said he likes _me_! He'd better not be lying!"

_Well. That answered that question._

Heart breaking into pieces as the door swung shut behind Usagi, Mamoru set about cleaning up the dirty dishes from her meal, leaving the cake and its single slice sitting out on the table as a testament to his own inadequacies.

* * *

It was twenty minutes later, Mamoru moping under his comforter while pretending to read a textbook, when his communicator started beeping. Were it not for the painful headache that the beeps only aggravated, he might have chucked the piece of plastic off his balcony and wiped his hands of the whole thing – but his head had begun throbbing not long after Usagi left, and he had a feeling the two things were related.

Pulling the communicator out, he pressed the button and ran a hand over his face. "This had better be important."

"Jeeze, no one asked for your attitude, Mamoru," Sailor Mars snapped at him. "And unless you consider a Cardian attack in Forest Woods Garden 'not important,' then you better get your ass in gear!"

Mars, like Mercury before her, clicked off without so much as a farewell, and Mamoru extracted himself from his cocoon of misery, leaving his book somewhere under the covers, and with a long-suffering exhale, transformed from his usual slacks and black shirt into top hat and dinner jacket.

Once arrayed in his proper regalia, he pushed his balcony door open, oriented himself towards the park, and took a dashing leap from the building.

He would have made it there faster if Mars had thought to mention that the Cardian was attacking Makoto and Usagi.

* * *

Tuxedo Mask landed on a tree in the little park, opting as always to take a high vantage point, and realized with a jolt of absolute terror that the ridiculous Cardian – who resembled something between a scrub brush, a fried shrimp tail, and a cannon – was wrapping a shrieking Usagi up in seaweed.

Next to her, Makoto grabbed a large rock and lobbed it at the monster with a grunt – when the Cardian bellowed "Utonberino!" Makoto's eyes landed on Tuxedo Mask, widening meaningfully when his gaze met hers.

Tuxedo Mask didn't need to be told twice; he swooped down into the fray, conjuring Endymion's sword to his hand as he closed in on Usagi.

With a decisive strike, he sliced through the seaweed that was holding Usagi prisoner, gathering the diminutive blonde into his arms and bounding out of the creature's reach.

As he leapt away, he heard a familiar cry reverberate in his wake: "Jupiter Power, Make-Up!"

But once again, when he landed atop the nearby building, Usagi was struggling to break away from him and get back to the fight. "Mako-chan!" she screamed.

"Mako-chan is fine, Usagi!" he said, catching her wrists and drawing them to his chest.

"How could you leave her behind?!" she screamed back, fighting to break his grip.

A cry of _Supreme Thunder!_ echoed from below them

"She's fine!" he cried again. "I saw her make a run for it right as I grabbed you."

"Mako-chan would _never_ leave me to fend for myself!" Usagi protested hotly, and Tuxedo Mask's fingers tightened around her wrists as he bristled.

"She didn't, Usagi," he said, trying poorly to keep his voice calm; that same note of irritation he'd been directing at the senshi all day managed to sneak in. "She didn't run until I grabbed you. She made sure you were safe first."

Her big eyes had narrowed down to angry slits, an unnerving expression on Usagi. "How come you keep saving _me_ ," she snapped. "There are other people around, too. Does Mako-chan not deserve to be rescued?"

_Fire Soul!_

"Of course she does," he said, exasperated. "But Makoto does martial arts. She's got a better chance of fending for herself."

"I'm not helpless!"

"Nobody said you were!"

"Then why me and not Mako?!"

"Because-" he pressed his lips together, finally dropping her hands so he could rake his fingers through his hair, knocking his hat to the ground. "You make me crazy," he grit out.

"Then why-"

_Venus Crescent Beam!_

He shook his head, desperate to change the subject. Anything was better than admitting his feelings to an annoyed and obviously not interested Usagi. "What happened to Seijuro?"

Usagi's forehead creased. "What?"

"Seijuro. Wasn't he here?"

Usagi blinked a few times, then shrugged. "Yeah, he and Mako-chan were walking through the park when I showed up. Then some angry pink-haired alien girl showed up too, the monster attacked, and he disappeared."

Tuxedo Mask's lip curled up in disgust. "He _left_ you two?!"

_Supreme Thunder Dragon!_

Usagi shrugged. "He probably panicked. Most people haven't run into…" she paused, eyes drifting up as she counted absently on her fingers. "...six of those things."

Tuxedo Mask stared at her in utter bewilderment. _Had it really been that many?_ Once he'd completed his own mental tally and confirmed that her count was in fact accurate, he shook himself out of his shock.

"And he still _left you_. What kind of guy _does_ that?"

She stamped a foot. "You are _impossible!"_

But whatever ill-advised thing Tuxedo Mask had been about to blurt in retaliation was cut off by the sound of Makoto's voice, no longer disguised by magic: "Usagiiiii!"

"Mako-chan!" screamed Usagi, leaning over the edge of the roof so Tuxedo Mask had to preemptively grab her waist to steady her.

He looked down, seeing a school uniform-clad Makoto with her hands cupped around her mouth and no other senshi to be seen.

"Ready to go back?" he asked, and Usagi threw her hands up.

"Do I even have a choice?"

Tuxedo Mask blinked behind the domino mask. "Ye-yes, of course you have a choice. Why would you…?"

"You just… you swoop in all overprotective, you tell me what I can and can't do, you're like… like..." she trailed off, gaze going slightly unfocused.

"Usagi?"

"Yes!" she said, snapping back to wide-eyed attention.

"Can I take you back down now?" he asked, feeling a surge of guilt for taking his bad mood out on her and not really wanting to know what she thought he was like.

After all, she'd liked Tuxedo Mask up until now, and he didn't want to ruin that.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed as Makoto yelled her name again.

Scooping Usagi up princess-style, Tuxedo Mask leapt from the roof, cape swishing in the breeze, and landed only a few feet behind Makoto, carefully settling Usagi down.

"Mako-chan, you're okay!" Usagi wailed almost as soon as her feet were on the ground, launching herself at Makoto and throwing her arms around her friend.

"Of course I am, silly," Mako said, squeezing the petite blonde around the waist before looking up to meet Tuxedo Mask's eyes over Usagi's shoulder. "As soon as you were out of the line of fire, I made a run for it."

Makoto's hand lingered on Usagi's back for an extra second when Usagi moved to step away, but then she let go and stepped back, looking to Tuxedo Mask. "Thanks, Tuxedo Mask," she said, voice heavy with meaning.

"It is an honor to protect Tokyo's people. Especially you."

He bowed quickly to both girls, and then vaulted into the sky, landing behind some nearby bushes. He jumped again, but not nearly as high, when he realized with a start that the tall shrubs also concealed a still-transformed Mercury, Mars, and Venus.

"'Especially you,' really?" Sailor Venus asked, and he didn't even bother to waste his time wondering where the hell she'd gotten popcorn from.

"Careful, Mina-chan," said Sailor Mars, arching an eyebrow. "Mamoru has been in a mood all day, he might bite your head off."

Blowing out a breath of regret, Tuxedo Mask ran his fingers through his hair again, realizing as he did so that he'd abandoned his hat and sword atop the nearby office building.

"I'm sorry," he said to Mars after a moment, then turned to Mercury. "I apologize, to both of you. It's been a long day, but that's no excuse to take it out on you."

Mars looked somewhat mollified, while Mercury smiled openly at him.

Laughter came from the path on the other side of the bushes, and they all fell silent at once.

"I learned one thing today," Makoto's voice said. "Seijuro-kun is definitely _not_ Tuxedo Mask."

Usagi's effervescent giggles were back. "Yeah, Mako-chan, I could have told you that if you'd only asked!"

"Oh really, Usagi-chan?" Makoto sounded just slightly suspicious. "Do you think you know who Tuxedo Mask is?"

Behind the bushes, Tuxedo Mask's eyes went wide, and Mars shifted from one red heel to the other, glancing to him with an arched eyebrow. He shook his head emphatically at her, then strained his ears to better eavesdrop.

"Tuxedo Mask is…" Usagi blew out a little breath. "I mean, Seijuro-kun really only thinks about himself, you know? And Tuxedo Mask thinks about other people. Sometimes _obnoxiously_ too much, but he does think about them. He..."

But whatever else it was he did, Tuxedo Mask didn't get to find out, as Usagi's voice dropped too low to overhear; he was pretty sure Usagi had started whispering in Makoto's ear.

"Whaaaat? Usagi-chan, get real," Makoto laughed a moment later. "Anyway, what are the odds?"

"It's just a vibe!" Usagi protested, her voice beginning to fade as she and Makoto made their way out of the park and towards the nearby metro station. "Plus, at least the hair is right…"

Once Usagi and Makoto had faded out of earshot, Tuxedo Mask turned to find Sailor Venus, chin braced on the backs of her hands, batting her eyelashes at him with her face schooled into the perfect painting of innocence.

"What?" he asked, and she grinned at him.

"Oh, nothing," she said airily, and Mercury gently elbowed her.

"Well, Mamoru-kun," Mars said, crossing her arms, "Since you've had a hard day, maybe it's better if we regroup tomorrow to discuss, rather than doing it now?"

He nodded hesitantly, still feeling a bit guilty for his earlier snappy behavior.

Mercury nodded too. "That sounds suitable to me. How is tomorrow morning? 8:30am at the usual spot?"

"Ugh, 8:30am on a Saturday?!"

"What about 9:30am?"

"Better," muttered Venus, though she still didn't look thrilled.

Plans set, the senshi dispersed, each heading in a different direction. Before he could head home, however, Tuxedo Mask had to take a beat and return to the top of the building to gather his things.

He had every intention of curling back up under his covers and sleeping until the senshi showed up the next morning, but when he climbed in through his balcony, he was startled to hear knocking on the front door.

Dropping his transformation, he went to answer it – it was probably Makoto, wanting to debrief after the events of the evening, though he wasn't sure why she wouldn't have just called; she had his phone number already.

But it wasn't Makoto at all – instead, he opened the door to find golden odangos and a school uniform, Usagi rocking back and forth on her toes nervously.

"Mamoru-san, I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, and he shook his head dumbly.

"I just… I ran out of here so quickly earlier, and I felt bad and… Is there still cake?"

He couldn't help his incredulous laugh, and again he pulled the door the rest of the way open for her. "Yeah, there's still cake. Come in."

She swapped her shoes in the genkan, and her eyes flicked to the rumpled bed where he had been hiding from the world earlier. "Are you… are you sure I'm not bothering you?"

"You're not bothering me," he promised, taking a seat next to her at the coffee table and sliding the slice from earlier over to her spot.

She sat down, picking up the slice with surprised eyes, and then blinked and cooed. "There's a little bunny on it!" she said, holding up the plate so she could show it to him, and he grinned.

"I know, Odango," he said. "Remember, I made that cake."

"It's too cute to eat!" she protested, and he arched an eyebrow. "Well, okay, it's _almost_ too cute to eat!" she conceded, picking up her fork.

She took a big bite with a pleased 'mmmmm,' then looked up at Mamoru. "Aren't you going to have any?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"I'm not really a big sweets person."

She blinked, then pointed to his new oven with her fork. "But…"

Her eyebrows were furrowed and her face was bewildered, and he smiled. "You can like to make them without liking to eat them," he pointed out, paraphrasing something Makoto had said last night, and Usagi nodded slowly, like this was a concept she had heard before but didn't fully grasp.

"I guess…" she said, taking another bite. "But seriously, Mamoru-san, this is so good, better than the one you made at the festival, even. You should really try some."

He was all set to refuse again, until she extended her own plate towards him, and his breath caught slightly. He knew from his last life that Usagi didn't share food – not lightly.

Heart in his throat, he climbed to his feet and walked to the kitchenette, fetching a clean fork.

He was still half-expecting Usagi to change her mind about sharing – after all, two people sharing one slice of cake was… He shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. Usagi obviously wasn't thinking about this in the same way that he couldn't not.

As he sat down again, reaching out the fork to take a small bit of her chocolate-chocolate cake, there were two thoughts screaming for dominance in his mind – the bizarre intimacy of her offer, and the question she hadn't really answered earlier, when he was Tuxedo Mask.

"So… Makoto-san and Seijuro-san were on a date?"

She flushed up to her roots and shoveled a large forkful of cake into her mouth. "I guess kind of? But I don't think it's a love match, and they're probably not gonna go out again."

"Oh. I bet that's a relief for you," he said in a thick voice, and Usagi's fingers tangled in her pigtail.

"Not… exactly."

"But…" Unconsciously, Mamoru rested the bottom of his fork against the table. "You were upset because Seijuro-san likes you."

The tines of Usagi's fork raked through the cake, crumbling it into chunks. "Was I?" she said a little faintly. "God, you must think I'm so shallow," she muttered, mostly under her breath.

But the remaining fragments of Mamoru's heart were beginning to do something that felt disturbingly like 'hope' again. "So you… You don't…?"

Usagi's face was the same color of one of the roses on her cake, shoulders coming up to her ears. "It's nice to have someone like you. It hasn't exactly happened a lot. Not that that's something _you_ would understand…" She said the final sentence so quietly that, had Mamoru's entire being not been so finely attuned to her, he would surely have missed it.

Mamoru simultaneously exhaled his relief and his chagrin. "I don't think you're shallow," he said. "For me, I only have one person who I care if they think of me like that, but if I didn't… maybe it would be nice to know someone else cared about me. Wanted me around, you know?"

Usagi nodded, and for the first time Mamoru felt a pang, seeing Usagi being, well, insecure.

Usagi _letting_ him see her be insecure.

In the past, he suddenly understood, she would have covered up a moment like this by calling him a baka or by throwing something at his head, in the same way he'd once said Odango Atama to protect himself when that unfamiliar desire to reach out and touch her had swept through him.

Now, he reached out and gave one of her pigtails the gentlest of tugs.

"Usagi… lots of people like you." He swallowed, hard, not really wanting to know just how true that statement was. _Seijuro was bad enough._ "And I promise, there are more people out there who think about you like that than just Seijuro… probably people you wouldn't even expect."

_Like me._

He ran his hand along the back of his neck as he pressed on, ignoring the knot in his belly in favor of reassuring her. "And there will… there will be lots more people throughout your life who will think of you like that. If one boy loses interest, it doesn't mean anything about you."

She inhaled, pressing her lips together slightly. "But _she_ likes you back, right? I bet it's a lot easier not to care when the person you like wants to be with you too, right?"

His heart lurched all over again. _Usagi liked someone else?! Who?_

"You… like somebody?" he managed to choke out, and she flushed.

"I just… I meant hypothetically!" she said, waving her hands and sending little crumbles of chocolate flying across the table.

His pounding heart couldn't quite settle, but at least his stomach stopped flip-flopping terribly when he realized that there wasn't some _other_ jerk he'd have to fight off if he was going to win Usagi over.

He nodded. "Hypothetically… I think that would be easier," he said slowly. "But I wouldn't know, either."

She looked surprised at his pronouncement, but recovered fairly quickly. "If you want her to like you back, Mamoru-san, you should try just giving her some of this cake. It's seriously amazing."

He smoothed his fingers over his forehead. "You suggested something similar earlier," he said, and she smiled sheepishly.

"I like food!" she said, sticking out the tip of her tongue, and he chuckled halfheartedly.

"That I know," he agreed, his voice taking on a note of sadness, then paused, picking up his fork again and poking at the remains of her slice of cake. "Let's say I tried giving her food, but she didn't get the message. What would you say I should do next?"

Usagi took a deep breath, scrunching her face in concentration. "Well… if you already tried giving her food but she didn't pick up on it, maybe that was too subtle? Have you tried asking her out on a date? Or giving her other romantic stuff, like flowers or chocolates?"

The idea of Usagi's reaction if he asked her on a date left him breathless in a bad way, but he could do other romantic gestures… probably…?

"Thanks, Usagi-san," he said after a moment. "I'll think about that."

She nodded. "Happy to help. I guess, um, call me if you need to brainstorm more. You have my number and all."

He nodded, secretly thrilled that this time she was actually encouraging him to call her, even if it was just for advice on how to, well, woo her.

"Do you want another slice?"

She looked at him, then at the clock on his bedside shelf, and he suddenly remembered that it was getting late – he didn't tend to think about time in a normal way when Usagi was around.

"Or I can wrap up a slice to take with you?" he offered, and now her mouth curved into a smile.

"Sure," she chirped, and he went to the kitchen, again cursing his lack of tupperware. Finally settling on plating the slice and wrapping it in foil, he set the dish in front of Usagi.

"You can return the plate whenever," he said, and she picked it up with a grin.

"Thanks, Mamoru-san! I'll bring it back soon, I promise."

He nodded. "No hurry, really. Good luck, ah, getting your test back."

She paused in the genkan, one foot in a slipper and one foot in a shoe, her slice of cake balanced on the cupboard. "Oh, thanks. And thanks for staying up late quizzing me, too. I'm sure you have better things to do."

Shrugging one shoulder, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Not really."

"Oh," she said, and finished changing her shoes with a bemused expression. "Okay, then."

She grabbed the cake and shuffled her feet, turning to give Mamoru a parting look as he started cleaning up.

He looked up and met her eyes, drawing in a shallow breath. "Yeah?" he asked after a moment, only to break the stillness.

"Thanks, for today. The girl you like is… well, she's lucky," she said, and then she was out the door before he could begin to formulate a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm glad I ended up writing this chapter (thanks again, Flora!), and I hope you liked it too! I would love to hear from you, and I hope you have a happy new year and that 2021 treats you better than 2020 has!


	9. Minako's Serenity Project: A Kiss For Mamoru and Usagi??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a bit of a mental health break from working on R around the holidays, but I'm excited to bring you this new chapter!
> 
> As always, undying appreciation to my beta, FloraOne, for her support, encouragement, feedback, and cheerleading!! She helps keep me on track and encouraged to work on this (and other stories, too). 
> 
> Thank you also, to everyone who has read, commented, favorited, reblogged, etc. I love hearing from you and your support means the world (and helps keep me motivated to write!!)

"Ta-da!" Minako dropped a stack of papers on the table in front of Mamoru, which fanned out to cover the textbook and chemistry notes he had been attempting to study from.

"What is this?"

"It's the play we're going to put on at the community theater, obviously."

Mamoru frowned, unsure how Minako had heard about the play his European Literature study group had rented out Juuban Hall to perform before falling victim to 'creative differences' around casting and cancelling the entire production, somehow leaving him holding the bag for the rental costs. Or how she'd snuck into his apartment twenty minutes before the scheduled senshi meeting without him letting her in, for that matter.

He'd long ago learned, however, that with Minako it was always easier to just not ask.

Reaching out, he picked up the top sheet of the sizable stack of papers the blonde senshi had thrown in front of him, his forehead creasing as he read the title page aloud. "The Legend of Endymion and Sere- Minako, what the hell?"

"What? It's all historically accurate, I had Ami-chan fact-check it."

"That's not the problem, and you know it."

"Oh c'mon, it's not like we're telling her anything. Or is your objection the subject matter? Would you prefer something like Snow White, where the women have no motivation besides fighting over who's most attractive to men and men are rewarded for performing casual sexual assault?"

His ears burned. "No, but-"

"Great, then it's settled! The Legend of Endymion and Serenity opens in two weeks, so we'll need to get going with the casting calls ASAP. I've already drafted up some posters, see?"

She pulled a piece of paper from the bottom of the stack and held it up for him to see; it was a cartoon-doodle of a pretty blonde princess and a handsome raven-haired prince staring longingly into each other's eyes. "Just think… The drama, the romance, the _costumes…_ "

"Minako. This is dancing way up to the line. We agreed that we wouldn't force the memories on her," Mamoru growled.

"Yeah, of course not. And if the tables were turned and it was you who didn't remember, I'm sure Usagi would be TOTALLY fine with that and not, I dunno, chasing you down in the streets and dropping subtle hints about who you really were."

When Mamoru didn't immediately rebut her point, she held up the picture again. "Plus, it's too late. She already read the script and loved it. Who do you think helped me with the posters?"

Blood drained from his face. "She… already…"

"And no return of memories, so it's totally Halal."

"Kosher," he corrected automatically, eyes dazed as he stared down at the script. "She read this?"

"Yup. And like I said, we made sure it was all historically accurate," She paused for a moment, then tapped her lips with a coral-painted nail. "Except we _did_ rearrange the events a little bit so Princess Serenity defeats Beryl and they all live happily ever after, you know, without the whole reincarnation bit. Ami-chan thought you might think that part was a little too on-the-nose."

"And Ami agreed to this."

"Yeah, like I said she totally fact-checked it. Are you even listening to me, Chiba?"

He raked a hand through his hair. "…Why do I get the feeling that any objections I raise are going to end up overruled?"

"Because your objections are silly," Minako stretched her arms in the air and then dropped them to her sides, smiling smugly. "I still don't understand who appointed _you_ high chancellor of who-gets-to-remember-and-who-doesn't, anyway. Especially since we've already totally disproved your whole 'we all deserve normal lives' thing."

He shook his head at her before he was distracted by a tapping coming from his front door. Then, a brunette head peeked through the doorway of the studio apartment. "Am I early… oh, hi Minako-chan. Did you already show Mamoru-san the new script?"

He groaned, dropping his face to the coffee table as Makoto paused in the genkan to swap out her shoes for Kelly green slippers.

Even with his new part-time job waiting tables, he couldn't afford to cover the cost of the theater unless it was offset by some serious ticket sales… he just hoped he knew what he was getting himself into.

If he knew Minako, though, then he didn't know the half of it.

* * *

It turned out Minako's idea of a casting call was limited to telling the other senshi about the play, which proved a bit redundant since they'd been the ones to help her write it in the first place.

Fortunately, Usagi at least seemed to be taking the array of uncast parts seriously, having recruited her friends Naru and Umino to join and spending the last few afternoons passing out flyers at the arcade in an attempt to convince other people to sign up.

As far as he was concerned, he couldn't care less who played what role… except he'd really like to play the Endymion to Usagi's Serenity.

Mostly because of page 34 of the script.

He had no intention of ever telling Minako, even as he reread the scene for at least the dozenth time, but her depiction of their private elopement the night before the Dark Kingdom had attacked was eerily similar to the dreams that sometimes woke him in the night, the whispers of the vows that they'd shared and the memory of Serenity's mouth against his.

He wasn't sure if his heart could take it, to hear Usagi say those same words, but he knew he could never bear to hear them from anyone else.

"But I don't _want_ to be the villain!" A wailing whine drifted through the blue velvet curtain as a crowd of people approached the stage from the belly of the auditorium, breaking his laser focus on his annotated copy of the script. "I want to be the princess! Why can't one of _you guys_ be the villain?"

"Because none of _us_ tried to cheat our way into the lead role. If you think about it that way, that casting seems rather… appropriate, don't you think?"

"Why are you always so mean to me, Aino-san?!"

"As my mentor once said, when you treat people, you teach them. And you never treat anybody."

"I believe the expression is 'you teach people how to treat you,' Minako-chan."

"My point stands!"

He pushed through the curtain to find the five sailor senshi standing in the aisle of the theater with Unazuki, Umino and Naru, and, predictably, Natsumi and Seijuro. _Why was it that he never seemed able to escape them?_

He stepped through the blue of the curtains, but the bickering crowd remained oblivious to his presence. Usagi stood in a semi-circle with her friends, one hand curled around the sleeve of Rei's mint green long-sleeved shirt.

"Rei-chan, I really think you'd be a better choice for someone as glamorous as Serenity…"

"See!" Natsumi's shrill voice split the air. "Tsukino doesn't even want the part!"

Usagi's face turned cherry red and her shoulders rose up to her ears, but Rei smoothed one hand over Usagi's shoulders. "I'm okay with playing the Princess of Mars – not as many lines to memorize. Besides," She turned to train a Shinto-charged death-glare at Natsumi. "Serenity is supposed to be blonde, Usagi-chan, so it's really between you and Minako-chan."

"And I'm already Princess Venus, obviously the sexiest of all Princess Serenity's bodyguards!" Minako struck a V-for-Victory pose, and Rei's eyes rolled so hard they looked like they might fall from her eye sockets.

"See, Usagi-chan? If you don't take the part, we'll have to do this whole play with _her_ in the lead role, just imagine!"

Usagi bit her lip, clearly trying to hold back a laugh that might offend Minako, who clapped two hands to her hips and rolled her own eyes. "Har har, Rei-chan. We all know I could play a great Serenity if I wanted to, but the part of Venus was like, written with me in mind."

Rei waved a hand dismissively, and Mamoru cleared his throat. "Usa… Usagi-san, I think you'd be a great Serenity. If you wanted to be."

Natsumi's mouth moued dramatically and she crossed her arms. "I'll quit if I have to be the stinky old witch!"

"Queen Beryl really isn't that old," Ami piped up. "She was only about five years older than Endymion, and she was really very beautiful. In fact, she was intended to be betrothed to him on Earth, before he came to the Silver Millennium and first met Serenity. She's really a tragic figure, if you think about it – she didn't do anything wrong, per se, except not being Endymion's true love, and reacting badly to not being chosen."

"Yeah, Natsumi-san, at least read the whole script before you quit," Makoto said with an encouraging smile. "Plus, Beryl is a redhead like you!"

Natsumi's eyebrows went up. "Betrothed?" she asked, ignoring Makoto completely. "Well, if he was supposed to be betrothed to her, we should add more scenes about them to the beginning of the play." She began flipping through the script, pulling a pen from somewhere and beginning to annotate the packet.

"Obviously I'll be playing Endymion," Seijuro said, and from behind him Minako (surreptitiously) clapped a hand to her forehead before springing forward with a bright smile on her face and a dramatic flourish of her hands. "Seijuro-kun, I actually had this _vision._ You know Princess Venus was having a torrid affair with Endymion's captain of the guard, Kunzite?"

Mamoru's eyebrows went up. Even with his recovered amnesia, he had no memory of _that_. Then again, Endymion had been wholly wrapped up in his own preoccupations at the time…

"And honestly, Seijuro-kun," She leaned in with a giggle, running her fingers along Seijuro's inner arm. "You are just exactly how I pictured Kunzite, all brave and strong and strapping."

Seijuro's chest puffed out as Natsumi's jaw dropped.

"I suppose I can play the captain of the guard," he mused. "Kunzite, you said?"

Minako looked extremely self-satisfied as she crossed her arms, but Natsumi cut in to cut her down. "Who gets to be Endymion, then?"

"Chiba, of course," Minako said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Natsumi's eyes lit up at the same time Usagi's entire being flushed pink. "He's the one who rented the theater, so it only seems fair."

Mamoru cleared his throat awkwardly as ten sets of eyes all trained on him.

"Yes, I have a short-list for the roles," Ami said, looking up from her own copy of the script through her reading glasses. "Umino-kun and Naru-chan, I thought you two would be perfect as Artemis and Luna, Queen Serenity's advisors and friends to the Princesses." She passed the two of them copies of their scripts, pre-highlighted. "And Unazuki-chan, you'll be a great Queen Serenity."

Unazuki took her own script with a determined nod. "Are there other roles still open? I bet I could bully Onii-chan into participating."

Across the auditorium, Minako's entire face fell, her eyes flicking to Seijuro as her bottom lip jutted out. Mamoru had to suppress a snort at her obvious regret that her efforts at mollifying Seijuro meant she wouldn't be able to play the past-life lover of Motoki.

"Uh…" Ami adjusted her glasses and squinted at her list. "We do have a few of Endymion's guards who aren't yet cast, but if we can't get all four it might make more sense just to consolidate them all into Kunzite rather than try to work with only two."

Unazuki nodded as she flipped open her packet, beginning to skim her lines.

"Okay," Makoto said, clapping her hands together. "I guess let's all review our scripts tonight and then meet again tomorrow afternoon after school for the read-through?"

There were nods and murmurs of assent, and the group began to break up for the evening.

Mamoru caught Usagi's eyes from across the stage, heart beginning to pound when she appeared to flush and look away, burying her nose in her script instead.

But before he could get up the nerve to cross the auditorium and try to talk to her, Rei looped an arm through his, dropping her voice low. "Senshi meeting after this," she said. "We're already together so no need to go back to your place."

He felt his face fall slightly, and he stood back to watch from a distance as Usagi waved bye to Ami and Makoto and walked out of the theater chatting with Naru and Umino.

As the last of the civilians filed out of the auditorium, he took a seat with a soft exhalation, turning his attention to the four girls still lingering.

"Any new information?"

"I still can't find any conclusive data on who this pink-haired alien woman might be," Ami said, pulling out the small blue PC that she always carried in her school bag and beginning to tap on the keyboard. "Even with the advanced technology of the Silver Millennium, running an algorithm to rule out each individual member of the populace would take months. It would be helpful if we had a solid lead."

"Right," said Makoto, sitting down in a folding chair she'd turned backwards, straddling the back. "But it seems like their attacks are totally random, what with going after kids and babies and even me."

"Random is one thing," said Rei. "But then how do you explain how many of these attacks Usagi-chan has been at or near?"

"The odds are slim," Ami said. "According to Mamoru-san, he fended off several Cardians before we began to reawaken, and if we include the attacks where she was in the vicinity, even if she wasn't personally attacked, she's been privy to seven out of the nine documented attacks. There's only a 9% probability of that happening by chance alone."

"So you think the enemy is specifically targeting Usagi-chan," said Minako, her eyebrows furrowing together as her back straightened. "That means the question is, who would want to hurt Usagi-chan?"

"It could be a resurgence of the Dark Kingdom," Mamoru speculated as he picked up the packet next to him, the cover page proudly proclaimed _The Legend of Endymion and Serenity – Prince Endymion_. "No one has ever wanted to hurt her more than Beryl."

Ami shook her head. "Beryl and Metallia were eradicated. It was the first calculation I ran after I reawoke. There is less than a 0.00001% chance that Beryl has anything to do with the current wave of attacks."

He fisted a hand through his hair. "That means some other random enemy has appeared and decided they want to hurt Usagi," he muttered.

"You know, if we told-"

" _No_."

"Okay, jeeze," Minako said, leaning back in her seat with her trademark theatricality, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a curtain of gold. "Far be it to me to suggest we like, equip her with the ability to protect herself or anything."

"If I recall correctly," Mamoru spat, "nobody deemed that necessary back in the Silver Millennium."

"Yeah," Rei agreed. "And that ended with both of you dying, two kingdoms falling, and full-on genocide. We should _definitely_ use that as supporting evidence for best practices now." She rolled her eyes hard and crossed her arms, then one leg over the other. "I'm with Minako-chan, Mamoru-baka. If we actually let Usagi-chan know what was happening, she'd be much safer."

Ami exhaled, shaking her head as she looked up from her screen. "She did wish to forget."

"Yeah, guys," Makoto said, grabbing her ponytail in her fist. "I've been with her for a couple of these attacks and there's… nothing, not even a flicker of recognition. I don't think she _wants_ to know. Maybe she'd be safer, but Mamoru-san has a point: if she doesn't want to remember and we can protect her on our own, it seems cruel to force it on her."

"So that's… two votes for reawakening, three votes for not, and no actual new information. Good meeting, everyone," Minako muttered and Makoto shrugged.

"Hey, when we're meeting three days a week, they won't all be winners," she said. "If we break now, though, I have some cookie dough chilling in the fridge at home that I can bake and bring in for tomorrow."

Makoto's bribe of baked goods didn't have to be offered twice – the meeting ended almost instantly, leaving Mamoru to gather the rest of his stuff and head home for the evening, hoping for a call from Usagi that didn't come.

* * *

"Unnecessary?!" Natsumi screeched the next afternoon as they sat around a table in the backstage green room of Juuban Hall. "This is the emotional core of the story! How can you possibly make the argument that a kiss between Beryl and Endymion is superfluous?!"

Mamoru surreptitiously massaged one temple as he watched Ami flip through Natsumi's copy of the script – heavily edited to cut the majority of the Endymion and Serenity plot, including all of page 34, and instead centering ninety percent of the story around the relationship between Beryl and Endymion.

"Obviously the Beryl and Endymion subplot is important," Ami said, schooling patience into her voice, "But the play _is_ titled 'The Legend of Endymion and Serenity.' While we can add a bit more focus on Beryl, we really can't remove any of the Serenity bits without changing the entire story."

Mamoru cleared his throat. He had some experience with Natsumi's general emotional volatility, and she was clearly already worked up – but as much as he'd rather not upset her, he really, really didn't want to have to kiss her.

"Natsumi-chan," he said delicately, weighing his words. "I think it might make Endymion look a little… flighty, if he's running around kissing a bunch of different girls. The point of the story is that he's already in love, but Beryl read too much into their relationship and then couldn't let it go. If he kisses her too, that message ends up a little muddled."

Across the table, Minako and Rei shared a meaningful glance as Natsumi slammed her fists against the table. "But the kiss is really important!"

"I don't think any kissing is necessary to the plot," piped up Seijuro. "I mean, what is that really saying, anyway? A couple kisses and two gorgeous women are willing to fight to the death over some prettyboy prince? Played by _Chiba?_ " He snorted derisively. "It just doesn't sound very realistic to me."

"Okay, look," Minako cut in, standing up and using her height to tower over all the teens still seated. "The play opens in _two weeks_. We don't have time for any major rewrites. Ginga-san, we'll throw in a couple extra Endy and Beryl scenes, but we're not cutting anything and we're not adding any kissing. If you don't like it, write and produce your own play."

Natsumi crossed her arms with a huff, but she didn't move from the table. "What about understudies?" she asked.

"Oh, that's a good point," Ami said, looking up from her script packet. "We really should have backups lined up in case one of us gets sick before the play."

"I'll be the understory for Serenity, obviously," Minako said, but Natsumi shook her head.

"No way, you're already 'the sexiest bodyguard,' no fair getting to be the lead too. I say if Tsukino can't play the part then I should get to fill in for her."

Five sets of eyes all met for a charged moment before Minako exhaled and flounced down in her seat again. " _Fine_ ," she drawled. "If Usagi-chan can't play the part the night of the play, you can fill in for her."

"I'm understudy to Endymion," Seijuro piped up.

"I thought you said it was unrealistic that two girls would be fighting over some prettyboy prince," Makoto pointed out dryly, and Seijuro snorted.

"Yeah, when it was _Chiba_ ," he muttered under his breath, and Mamoru couldn't help but roll his eyes.

When Umino didn't try to stake a claim, however, there was no reason not to allow Seijuro to play understudy to Endymion, and the remaining backup roles were assigned without much fuss.

Once all the parts and the definite lack of script changes had been settled, the rest of the readthrough went smoothly, with only a few fumbles here and there. Minako and Ami were the only two already off-book, with everyone else needing to either read from or at least reference their own script as the night went on. Makoto's cookies quickly dwindled, and by the time the rehearsal was over it was well past dinnertime.

Packing up his stuff, Mamoru looked up to find Natsumi standing next to him, and his heart leapt to his throat.

"Mamoru-kun!" she cooed. "Since I'm understudy to Serenity now, I thought we should practice some of the parts together, just in case. If you're not doing anything right now…" She batted her eyelashes at him, and he blurted the first thing he could think of.

"I can't, Natsumi-san. Usagi-san and I already made dinner plans tonight."

Across the stage, Usagi's head jerked up, and she stared at him with wide sapphire-blue eyes.

"Oh, but you can cancel those!" Natsumi giggled, and Mamoru fought the urge to grit his teeth at her dogged determination.

"I really shouldn't, I promised and Usagi-san would be really disappointed if I bailed. Right?" He looked up at her, trying desperately to convey with his eyes that not only was she his badly needed out, but that he also really did want to take her to dinner.

"Yeah!" Usagi said, bounding up next to him and slapping a hand against his shoulder. "Mamoru-san promised to buy me dinner for helping recruit people to join the play. I've been looking forward to it all week!"

Natsumi looked between them with a _hmph_ and turned on her heel, stalking out of the theater.

"Oh, thank goodness," Mamoru exhaled, turning to Usagi. "You're a lifesaver, really."

She grinned, placing one hand on either of her slim hips. "Enough of a lifesaver that you'll actually buy me dinner? I mean, you can't offer a girl something like that and then take it back, you know!"

"I know. Why do you think I used that excuse?"

She took a deep breath in, then snort-laughed at him. "Okay, sure. Where are you taking me, then?"

He couldn't believe his luck nor suppress the pounding of his heart as he led her out of the building, and she froze when his motorcycle came into view, parked outside the building.

"No way," she said, and he summoned his cheekiest version of Mamoru-baka and smirked down at her.

"What, are you afraid?"

"Never!" She aggressively closed the last of the steps between him and the bike, turning with a cock of her hip as she crossed her arms at him. "Maybe I wasn't expecting it, but that doesn't mean I'm _scared_."

"Oh yeah?" he said, holding the blue helmet out to her in challenge, and she snatched it from him.

"Yeah!" she retorted, jamming the visored hat onto her head.

He grinned, pulling his keys from his pocket and tossing them skyward before snatching them out of the air. "Well, then, shall we?"

All the time he'd spent in proximity to Usagi over the last few weeks still hadn't prepared him for the sensation of her slinging her leg over the bike behind him, the feel of her small fingers clawing into the fabric covering his abdomen.

The oxygen left his lungs and his heart pounded so hard he couldn't understand how she didn't feel it in her own chest, beating out of his ribcage and directly into hers. The softness of her pressed into his back, and his trembling fingers nearly forgot how to crank the motorcycle, struggled to retain the steps necessary to put the bike in gear.

He managed, somehow; with a roar too loud for the still of the evening, they peeled out of the small parking lot and onto the main road, the streetlights overhead fading into a haze of silver-blue stardust in their wake.

Deftly, he steered the bike to follow green signs to the ramp that would take them up onto the highway; there was a street near Keio that he was fond of, with an assortment of casual restaurants perfect for this impromptu not-date.

He revved the engine through their final ascent onto the skyway, slowing down only to pass through the toll gates. Then, they were soaring high above the Tokyo streets, leaving behind skyscrapers and office buildings in a neon blur.

Wind whipped past as they flew down the highway. Checking his blind spot to merge, one of Usagi's tails cut across his view like a lash, a blue sedan blowing past them. Her grip around his abdomen tightened in a way that would have been imperceptible if this was a world where he could focus on anything but her, and his heartbeat somehow increased.

He tilted the bike, zipping between lanes, and as they leaned, the heat of her knee brushed against his thigh and left a tremor behind. His grip on the handlebars stiffened, his vision narrowing to nothing but the road ahead because if he couldn't stop focusing on Usagi, he might crash and kill them both.

His resolve to concentrate only on driving was badly challenged when Usagi's nails dug into his sides as the shining structure of Tokyo Tower burst into view on their left, stretching higher even than any of the buildings and distorting the coolness of the night with a blaze of warmth. His brain automatically filled in the gaps, imagining how she'd catch her breath at the beautiful view, not that he could have heard her over the sounds of the city around them.

Fighting his attention back, he focused instead on the asphalt skyway beneath the wheels of his bike, stretching over urban canyons and leading them into Mita.

Throat dry as sand, he finally pulled onto the exit ramp, following the signs to leave the highway, drifting below overpasses and out of contiguity with the towering Tokyo buildings.

They leveled out with the main streets, finally slowing their passage, and the muted lights of the city sharpened again as he dropped his foot to the ground and clicked the motorcycle into park near a small ramen shop.

He pulled the keys from the bike, his feet steady against the earth, as Usagi teetered behind him. Instinct and superhero skills got his arm around her waist just in time, keeping her from toppling over.

"You okay?" he asked, trying to keep his voice gentle as he unconsciously rubbed a hand along her back.

"A little seasick," she admitted, prying the helmet off to reveal heavily pigmented cheeks. "I've never been on a motorcycle before."

"Ah, yeah." His smile was sheepish as he helped her find her footing. "It can feel a little like a roller coaster the first time."

She nodded, her arm looped around his neck and a hand on his forearm forcing him to fight down his own flush.

Instead of paying attention to her hands on him, he decided to focus on the most sure-fire distraction he could think of – for her, anyway. "C'mon. You'll feel better once you have some food in you."

She arched an eyebrow at him, not taking the bait for probably the first time in her life. "Aren't you supposed to be a doctor or something? I didn't think eating was the traditional cure for seasickness."

"It's not," he said as she finally loosened her hold on him, hands trailing down so her palm still just-rested against his; reflexively, he squeezed her fingers with his own. "But I know you. You always feel better after you've eaten."

In response, she stuck her tongue out but let him lead her by the hand into the ramen shop. He snagged two open seats at the counter, and they almost immediately placed their orders with a harried-looking staff member.

Mamoru watched her out of the corner of his eye as they waited for their bowls, her arms crossed against the counter as her fingers idly fiddled with the ends of one of her pigtails. Her eyes trailed over to him once, and then immediately snapped back to the tresses between her fingers when she caught him staring.

His ears burned with embarrassment, and he cleared his throat just as two large bowls were set down in front of them – Tonkotsu for Usagi, Miso for Mamoru.

Rather than push the conversation, Mamoru welcomed the distraction and began slurping down noodles. Next to him, Usagi did the same, at one point shoving half a poached egg into her mouth in a large gulp.

As was customary, they finished their meal in only a few minutes, with Mamoru settling the bill for both of them before leading Usagi back out into the warm spring air. She moved towards the bike, but he caught her shoulder at the same time as the breath in his throat.

"I… I was thinking we could maybe walk around a little before I take you home? It's better for the digestion."

The breath rushed out of him again when her smile spread between her ears.

They fell in step together as he casually steered them down the right paths to "wander past" the gelato shop he'd mentally noted a half-dozen times as a place he'd like to take her, as if she'd ever let him.

His heart began to pound over the thought that, today at least, she might actually let him.

"When…" Her voice was quiet, shaky, perhaps from relative disuse over the last half hour. A moment later, she spoke again and her tone sounded much more normal. "When you take the girl you like out, you should probably go somewhere nicer than ramen. Like… Thai food? Or there's this place called Koyanagi that she'd probably like…"

 _Koyonagi?_ His brain rifled through the restaurants he'd browsed while imagining a real date with Usagi, as opposed to this farce he'd accidentally backed his way into. _Isn't that a fugu place? And Thai…_

"It's not Rei-san," he interrupted, cutting off her continued ramblings about nice restaurants.

Usagi jolted, her steps halting as she stared at him. "Who… who said anything about Rei-chan?"

He shook his head, cupping a hand over his forehead and massaging his temples as the gelato place came into view ahead of them. "Rei-san is an old friend," he said, wanting to clear this air now, to not be haunted by mistakes he made in another lifetime, before he understood. "And she had a brief crush on me, a long, long time ago, but I have never once _wanted_ to date her."

Pink-cheeked, Usagi brushed a pigtail over her shoulder. "But you know the foods she likes…?"

"So do you," he countered, abruptly cutting off her line of questioning. "Do you want to date Rei-san?"

Usagi raised both shoulders, spreading her hands at her sides. "She's so pretty and elegant. Isn't that your type?"

"Not really, no." He grabbed her right hand, giving her a little tug to get her moving towards the gelato shop again. She stumbled behind him, and he slowed his steps to account for her shorter legs.

"Do you want to try this place?" he asked as they neared the doorway, in a horrible imitation of casual that Usagi appeared to buy hook, line, and sinker.

"Ooo! I love gelato!" she squealed, all thoughts of Rei and Mamoru's 'type' forgotten immediately.

It was just as well. Even if she'd said the girl he liked was lucky, he was pretty sure that she wasn't ready to hear that _she_ was his type – and no one else.

They stepped through the noren and into the shop, and Usagi's eyes lit up the moment she saw the dozen flavors of iced confections housed inside the clear case. He followed at a more sedate pace as she beelined to the display, smiling widely as she pointed through the glass at different tubs of gelato and asked the shopkeeper incredibly detailed questions about flavor profiles.

It took her longer than the length of their entire meal at the ramen shop to settle on a waffle cone with a scoop of hazelnut-chocolate and a scoop of strawberry, Mamoru watching her entire decision-making process with a warm ember of affection settled somewhere in his upper chest.

Once she'd reached her verdict, Mamoru ordered a small to-go coffee and belatedly added a biscotti to the ticket when Usagi gaped at him in abject horror.

Treats in hand, they stepped back onto the street to resume their walk, Usagi licking at her ice cream and occasionally glancing over at him.

After the fourth time she did this, he cleared his throat and attempted to engage. "How's your gelato?"

"Oh, it's… it's good." She looked down at the remains of her cone – a few bites of half-melted brown-and-pink swirl in a thin waffle wrap riddled with teeth marks – and then back up at Mamoru without another word, and he inwardly kicked himself.

He'd never once known Usagi to be this quiet, and he had no idea how to carry the conversation by himself. _But_ _he had to say something, right?_

"Uh, what do you think about the whole Serenity and Endymion play?"

Her face lit up like it had earlier at the promise of gelato. "Isn't it so romantic?" she sighed. "I'd never heard of it before… I guess Mina-chan first heard the legend back when she was living in England? And of course Ami-chan knew it too, because she knows everything."

He nodded, not bothering to explain that the story's origins were nowhere near England.

"But star-crossed lovers, kept apart by their families and responsibilities but ultimately triumphing and getting to be together, despite the odds? How could you even make that more romantic?"

"Reincarnation," he said, and then bit his tongue and tried to cover with a sip of coffee.

"What now?" she asked, love-dazzled eyes sharpening as she focused on Mamoru.

"Forget it," he muttered, and she tilted her head, popping the rest of the cone into her mouth in a single bite.

"Like, they get reborn and get to be together in multiple lifetimes, you mean?" she said once the cone had dissolved on her tongue, sucking on the inside of her cheek as she appeared to lapse into deep thought. "…Wow, could you imagine? You're fated to be together so hard that you find each other in multiple lives and fall in love each time?"

"…Yeah," he choked out between nervous sips of coffee, draining the cardboard cup. "That does sound pretty romantic."

Usagi giggled. "If Mina-P hadn't put a ban on making edits to the script we could suggest she add, like, a reincarnation epilogue where Endymion and Serenity find each other in their next life. But I think Natsumi-san might actually quit the play if we did."

"Probably," he agreed around a mouth full of sawdust, no coffee left to wash it down.

"I wonder what their names would be in a next life…" Usagi continued, obviously oblivious to Mamoru's anxiety. "Something English-y, probably… Maybe, like, Serena? That sounds kinda like Serenity."

Mamoru couldn't bring himself to comment, instead crumpling the cup in his hand and depositing it into the nearest trash can. As they rounded the corner and completed their loop, he zeroed his focus in on his motorcycle, the fastest way out of this conversation full of landmines.

Next to him, Usagi continued to muse aloud on what their names might have been in another life as he hastened toward the bike, shaky hands offering her the helmet in the hopes that it would prompt a topic change.

She pressed the helmet over her golden streamers and flipped up the visor. "How come you don't have a helmet?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"Because you're wearing it," he explained, and her eyes widened.

"But you should wear it!" she protested, moving to slide the protective hat off, and he set his hand down on the plastic covering the top of her head.

"I'll buy a new one. In the meantime, you're the guest so you should wear the helmet."

He couldn't see her mouth, but he could tell from the way her eyes scrunched that she was frowning at him.

"I'll feel better if you're wearing it," he added, and her narrowed eyes went skeptical as he climbed onto the bike and patted the seat behind him.

"C'mon," he entreated, and she finally rolled her eyes with a little huff, sliding the plexiglass down and throwing her leg over the bike behind him, her thigh once again brushing against his in a way he was wholly unprepared for and left him quivering.

The route to the Tsukino's didn't require them to go on the highway, sending them instead zipping down the streets of Juuban under the shine of the moon. Mamoru pretended that he needed instructions from Usagi to find the house, slowing down periodically so she could point over his shoulder, her other arm tightening around his waist and leaving his heart thumping.

Much too soon and a million years later, he killed the engine as they parked in front of the Tsukino's red-roofed house, Mamoru dropping his feet to the ground to help guide Usagi off the bike.

She was less wobbly than before, getting her legs under her quickly and prying off the helmet, balancing it on the seat of the now-silent motorcycle next to them.

"Well, thanks, for dinner," she said, words halting as she twined fingers into one ribbon of hair. "I'm free any time you need an alibi."

He let out a small bark of laughter – relieved, incredulous, hopeful – and Usagi frowned, her hand morphing into a fist around her pigtail.

"Sorry," he muttered, smoothing his hand down the back of his head and further rumpling his windswept hair. "I'm still not used to you actually wanting to be around me."

The corners of her frown turned up slightly. "Me either," she said. "But I like it better than fighting."

He only vaguely attempted to suppress his smile, massaging fingers into the back of his neck. "Me too."

His pulse was beating through his fingers, running away from him as he stood there staring into Usagi's eyes while she smiled up at him, the moment lengthening to thirty heartbeats, now forty.

"It's, uh. It's getting late," he finally managed to break the moment of quiet.

"Mama knows I'm with you," she said, as though that meant her curfew no longer mattered, or she didn't have school the next day.

She rocked from her heels to her toes, her teeth digging into her lower lip as her fingers once again fidgeted with her hair before they suddenly fell away to her side.

"Oh," she said, blinking. "You probably have class and stuff in the morning." She shook her head, and he almost thought he heard her mutter the word _stupid_ , but it was probably just the wind rustling through the blossoms of the trees.

"I'll see you tomorrow at rehearsal?" she asked, taking a step back and allowing Mamoru to take his first full breath in hours.

He nodded, and she curled her fingers in a small wave, taking a few backwards steps before turning and running the rest of the way to the door without a glance back.

He inhaled sharply, picking up the helmet to mask his strange sense of disappointment, and glanced up, hoping to catch a final look at her through the window before she disappeared from the genkan.

Instead, he looked up and found himself staring right into her eyes, not through the window at all but still standing on the doorstep with her key in the lock, looking back at him. She smiled a little half-smile before pushing the door open and disappearing inside the house.

His inhale was shuddering, his exhale almost nonexistent, and he leaned unsteadily against his bike as he tried to remember the simple in-and-out motions that breathing normally entailed. Once he was sure he wasn't about to experience heart failure, he looked up again, but the windows of the Tsukino house had gone dark, and no heart-shaped faces peered back at him from inside.

With a fortifying gasp of breath, he slid the helmet – now scented with the slightest whiff of vanilla – over his face, his heartbeat pounding an insistent question that his mind was too scared to try to answer: _Was it really possible that she was starting to like him back?_

* * *

Minako had put herself in charge of the play's costuming and makeup, so it shouldn't have shaken him like it did on opening night when the curtains opened and Princess Serenity emerged onto the stage in front of him.

Every detail was perfect, from the sheen of her hair to the gold semi-circle above her eyebrows and the pearlescent chiffon of her dress – it was like a ghost had been superimposed over the schoolgirl, and he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and scrub the ink from her forehead to bring forth the woman he loved from beneath the specter of her past life.

Instead, he hit his mark, as he had every day in rehearsals for the last week, and allowed himself to openly gape at her.

She looked across the stage, crystalline eyes meeting his and going liquid, becoming something full of longing and promise that boiled in his soul, inciting an ache of powerful déjà vu.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded of her, his attempt at harshness contradicted by the way his voice cracked on the final syllable.

She took a step back from him, pressing her skirts back to reveal bare feet – better to feel the grass between her toes. "I wanted to see the rose gardens," she said, voice simultaneously confident and questioning. "We don't have anything like them back home."

"Back…" No one outside the front row would be able to see it, but nonetheless his eyes flicked to her forehead. "…You're the Moon Princess."

She winced shyly. "I'm sorry, I was told not to leave the guest quarters, but I looked out the window and… I couldn't resist."

He stepped close – lured just like she had been, never having been taught that some things weren't meant for him. "You should at least have a proper guide, then," he said, offering his arm. "Someone to teach you which roses are which."

"You won't tell?"

But his next line, already formed on his lips – _Tell what?_ – was interrupted by a sinister chuckling from above.

He and Usagi jerked, eyes flying to the Juliet balcony at the top of the set and finding a painted Cardian balancing there, poised and ready to strike.

Blood drained from his face as the lights in the theater dimmed, a distinct sound of ropes snapping and heavy sandbags hitting wooden slats coming from backstage.

A confused murmur spread through the audience over the rustling of papers as people flipped through programs to identify this new character.

Mamoru shoved Usagi behind him on instinct as the monster cackled "Bipierrot!"

The harlequin woman vaulted from her high vantage point down to the stage proper, the assembled crowd gasping over the stunt.

Bipierrot careened about the stage on a giant bumper ball, haphazardly crushing the painted cardboard rose screens in the proscenium that the cast had stayed up late all week to finish painting in time for the opening.

Screams sounded from the front row as audience members clambered from their seats, dodging fragments of the screens the monster had sent flying out into the crowd.

Mamoru twitched, one hand resting on Usagi's hip as his eyes dragged along the giant wooden set painted to look like the Palaces of Elysion. _There had to be somewhere he could hide her._

Bipierrot backflipped, landing on her feet. She produced a spiral umbrella with a flourish, leaving the giant red ball to rocket towards Usagi and Mamoru.

"Usagi!" he cried, shoving her out of the path of the projectile; she stumbled on the hem of her skirt and fell to her knees. The ball collided with Mamoru seconds later and swept him from the stage with a despairing shout.

He was thrown into darkness – the lights had been cut backstage. But in the dim light, twirls of ribbons and whorls of elements spun as planetary princesses shed their veneer of diplomacy to reveal the bodyguards they truly were.

Mamoru summoned a rose to his fingers as he watched the guardians of the moon princess one by one spring onto the stage, to Usagi's side. Reassured, he allowed himself to be swept up in the vortex of black and red that would transform him into her masked protector.

Barely a breath later, Tuxedo Mask leapt into the flyloft above the stage, seeking a suitable vantage to plan his next move.

Once high above the action, his eyes traced over the chaos below.

The audience had clustered towards the back of the theater, but the doors seemed to be stuck shut. Props littered the stage, smashed to pieces, and his heart stuttered as he heard a familiar, gut-wrenching wail. The Cardian had wound Usagi in some kind of horrible electrified lasso that she struggled weakly against.

His calves tightened, but before he could swoop down, a well-placed Crescent Beam split the rope, sending Usagi spiraling.

The Cardian whirled away with a mocking titter as Usagi fell to her knees with a pained cry. However, she was pulled to safety almost immediately by a brunette in a green fuku.

Sailor Jupiter guided her princess far downstage left, away from the skirmish, and wrapped an arm around the girl to keep her upright on wobbly legs.

Sailor Mars began yelling, but the sound of his heartbeat in his ears half-drowned her out – he made out words about being the Princess's protector, a promise to chastise the demon-clown in the name of Mars. The senshi of flame hurled one of Rei's Ofuda into the Cardian's painted face, creating a binding and drawing the chaos to an immediate halt.

As he watched, Tuxedo Mask's gloved fingers wrapped around a rope counterbalancing one of the setpieces. He started as the piece he was standing on began to move, lowering down onto the main stage and into view of the audience before he had the chance to leap away.

Like the assembled crowd, Usagi's eyes trained onto him as the giant papier-mâché moon dropped into the stage, just overhead of the battling senshi. He saw her exhale a sigh of apparent relief, sagging just slightly into Jupiter.

Unsure what else to do, he opened his mouth. "Attacking our play? I, Tuxedo Mask, shame you; what a low-down trick."

Usagi's mouth curved up, her cheek smooshing against Sailor Jupiter's shoulder as her eyes fluttered shut.

Jupiter gave her a gentle poke in the side, jolting Usagi back to attention with a clumsy stumble; meanwhile, in stage right, Sailor Mars charged her Fire Soul attack.

In the same moment, Venus shot her Crescent Beam from upstage right; the two missiles intertwined in a cascade of red and gold sparks before striking the monster in unison.

Bipeirrot, pinned centerstage by the power of the Ofuda and unable to flee, was eviscerated in an explosion of light and heat, leaving nothing behind but a smoking tarot card floating down to the stage.

The card faded away and Usagi perked up, energy seeping back into her limbs as Sailor Jupiter ran a soothing hand along the back of her head.

"Now that the Princess is safe again, we have fulfilled our sworn duty!" Sailor Venus cried, eyes darting around the theater before striking a dramatic pose.

The frightened audience members, many of whom had been struggling to make a run for it, fell quiet again as Venus's voice boomed out over the house.

From behind the other guardians, Sailor Mercury clapped a hand to her forehead, while Sailor Jupiter, still standing upstage, forced a smile and patted Usagi's shoulder. "Yes, you are safe now, Princess Serenity! We will be here to protect you whenever you need us!"

"Always," agreed Sailor Mars, and the audience began resuming their seats over hushed and confused murmurs.

Almost as one, the senshi bounded off the stage, leaving Usagi standing next to the demolished sets with a startled look on her face.

"Fare thee well, Princess Serenity," Tuxedo Mask called as the senshi departed, tugging the rope to pull the moon back out of sight.

There was a moment's stunned silence before the audience broke out in cheers and applause, one or two people even wolf-whistling; Usagi stared out into them with wide eyes before sweeping into a clumsy curtsy.

She stood straight, waving a hand in a way that appeared triumphant, but from up in the rafters Tuxedo Mask could see the way her smile wobbled.

* * *

Clad again in the plastic replica of Endymion's armor, Mamoru walked rapidly down the backstage hallway trying to find Usagi. After the Cardian attack and the standing ovation, she'd disappeared from the stage in a hurry and none of the girls knew where she'd gone.

Naturally, he was panicking.

He was about to transform into Tuxedo Mask and go gallivanting back to the Tsukino's home when he heard a sniffle through the door he was about to run past.

He froze, then pressed a hand to the door, pushing it open to reveal a bowed golden head, streamers of hair drooping down to brush the floor alongside the hem of the silver-white dress she still wore.

His heart contracted in a painful moment of recollection; he'd seen Serenity so distraught only once before, mere hours before her death.

But, despite the flawless mimicry, this wasn't Serenity.

"Usagi?"

She jerked her head up, smoothing the back of her hand along one cheekbone, leaving a glistening trail of moisture behind. "Mamoru-san, hi," she said with a big fake smile.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine!" she said, wiping the other eye with the heel of her palm. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"

He pulled over a folding chair, sitting down in front of her and fidgeting, fighting the urge to wrap her hands with his. "For one thing, you're crying," he said gently, and she sniffled loudly before bursting into great heaving sobs.

"I-I-I just…" she hiccupped. "I feel so frustrated! These stupid things keep showing up and we all worked so hard and we didn't even get to do the stupid play and I can't even protect myself and I don't understand why the Sailor Senshi played along with the play thing in the first place and I was so excited and everything's ruined and it's not faaaaaaaair." She ended on a loud wail, tears bursting forth, and Mamoru ran his hand through his hair with a wince.

Usagi was hiccupping into her skirts, eyes covered in white fabric, and a bolt of inspiration struck him.

Reaching a hand behind his back, he pulled from the air a handful of roses, crimson and ivory blooms mixed together to form a bouquet.

"Here." He held out the arrangement to her and she lowered her hands to look first at the flowers and then at him. Then back at the flowers again.

"Mamo… what…?"

Apprehension prickled his skin, but she wasn't crying anymore, so he pressed on. "It's customary to give the leading lady flowers on opening night, isn't it?"

"But, but I didn't even get to finish my first scene!"

"Why should that matter? You worked really hard, you deserve to be celebrated."

She shook her head vigorously, pigtails whipping every which way. "No, Mamoru-san, you should give these to one of the sailor senshi. They're the ones who actually did something tonight."

It was his turn to shake his head, reaching out to pat the back of her hand in a way he hoped was reassuring. "They don't need my flowers. They have fans and merchandise. Besides, I got them for you."

_Okay, maybe it was a little bit of a lie, but it was the thought that counted, right?_

Usagi sniffled again, but the look of anguish on her face had faded considerably and she finally took the bouquet from him; unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, she was even smiling a little bit.

"Thanks, Mamoru-san," she said. "That was really thoughtful of you."

"I can be thoughtful sometimes."

Usagi cupped the flowers to her chest, taking a deep inhale of their scent before tilting her head slightly. "Most of the time. What even happened to Mamoru-baka, anyway?"

He snorted. "He woke up one day and realized that hair-pulling wasn't actually a good strategy for making friends."

Her smile was soft, her eyes warm as she fingered red rose petals. "I'm glad. I like being your friend."

"I like being your friend, too."

For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw her face fall, but when he blinked, she was smiling down at the bouquet again.

Shaking himself from the odd feeling, he offered her his hand. "C'mon, what do you say we go find the girls? I bet you anything Minako-san has cooked up some kind of crazy cast party that we're currently missing."

She grinned back at him, all lingering tears gone from her face as she slipped her hand into his. "If we don't hurry up, she'll probably terrorize the Gingas right out of the building. Again."

"Is that supposed to… make me want to go stop her, or make me want to stay here with you longer?"

Usagi smacked his shoulder. "Mamoru! Don't be mean."

He held up his hands in supplication. "I know you're friends with them, but you have to admit they're not the easiest people in the world to get along with."

"Okay, but people can change. Look at you!"

He froze. The very last thing he wanted to do was accidentally convince Usagi to give Seijuro another chance.

"Besides," she added, voice stretching long with thought. "I think they're lonely. We're the only other people I ever see hang out with them. It doesn't cost us anything to be nice."

He blew out the tangle of anxiety – of course she would feel that way, she was _Usagi_ – and forced a small smirk in its place. "You have a point," he conceded, realizing he still held her hand in his and carefully pulling her to a stand.

Her floaty dress brushed the tops of her feet – still bare – and as if possessed by the uninhibited ghost of Endymion, he blurted, "You look beautiful tonight."

She flushed from the low-cut neckline of the dress all the way up to the crescent moon on her forehead. "Oh. Thanks. It's all Mina-P, she's a wizard with a cosmetic set."

He shook his head, feeling his ears catch fire. "No offense to Minako-san, but I'm sure it's much easier when you're working with someone who already looks like you."

She dropped his hand and clutched the roses up as though she wanted to hide her face. "Don't tease me like that! I thought we said you were done being Mamoru-baka!"

He closed his eyes momentarily, wanting to beat his head against the wall, to demand of his past self why he had had to behave in such a way that he now couldn't pay the woman he loved a compliment without her misunderstanding it completely.

"I am," he said instead. "I'm being serious, Usagi. You're a very pretty girl." _Further evidenced by the way his voice had cracked on the word 'pretty,'_ he thought at himself in irritation.

Usagi lowered the bouquet, revealing a face the same shade of red as her flowers, and he was pretty sure if his own face got any hotter they would need to call in some firefighters to manage the spontaneous combustion.

"C'mon," he muttered, clearing his throat and pressing his hand to the door. "Your friends are probably worried about you by now. We should go find them."

She nodded, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Okay, but you can't just run off! You have to promise to stay for the afterparty, alright?"

"I can do that," he agreed, holding the door open for her, then holding his breath as she passed.

They made their way down the hall in silence, Mamoru staring at her from the corner of his eye every step of the way, and finally emerged in the green room where he'd left the other senshi.

However, they weren't all still there – in fact, it was just Makoto who was still standing in the green room, staring out the window with her legs crossed at the ankles.

"Hey!" she called as they stepped into the room, pulling her hands from her jacket pockets. "There you two are. Unazuki-chan 'convinced' Motoki-kun to let us borrow the Crown for an afterparty. Well, Mina-chan was involved somewhere along the way, but the point is that everybody else headed over to the Crown like ten minutes ago. Let's go, we'll be late!"

Mamoru and Usagi met each other's eyes with discomfited chuckles – Usagi rolled her eyes like this was something she'd seen coming, and Mamoru shrugged, because, well. He had.

They trailed behind Makoto, Mamoru conveniently forgetting his motorbike in the parking lot in favor of the chance to walk next to Usagi, even though after less than a minute she fell into step next to her friend and then ended up spending most of the walk chattering to Makoto instead of him.

He didn't mind, though – the happiness that had returned to her voice more than made up for the snub.

Too soon, the sliding glass doors of the arcade swished open in front of the three teens, revealing Minako standing atop the arcade counter and Motoki shaking his head at her as he mixed a milkshake, a collection of glasses spread out next to him.

"Hey, guys!" the sandy blond called with a grin as Mamoru and his two companions walked in; Mamoru raised a hand in salute as Usagi squealed, running up to the counter and setting down her bouquet.

"Motoki-onii-chan, hi! Did you miss the play?"

"Nah, I was there," he said with a roguish wink. "I left right after curtain call to come open the arcade for the party. What was up with that whole sailor senshi interlude? Imouto didn't warn me about anything like that!"

Usagi's face fell like a souffle, and for the first time in his life, Mamoru had to repress the urge to smack his best friend.

"Exactly!" Minako crowed from her spot atop the counter, stance wide in a power-pose. "Which is why I say we do a reenactment, here and now, for Motoki-kun's sake!"

Every head in the place jerked to stare at Minako in horror – or maybe it was just Mamoru and Usagi, since no one else was in his immediate view. But either way, he couldn't imagine anyone else could _possibly_ think this was a good idea!

"That's a great idea, Minako-chan!" Unazuki said, and Mamoru somehow managed not to facepalm. "Since Natsumi-san and Seijuro-san didn't make it to the afterparty, why don't we start with act 2 scene 1?"

Mamoru forgot how to breathe. _Page 34_.

Even in the dress rehearsal, whenever the time for the kiss had come he had choked, made an excuse, and fled the stage to a chorus of Minako's jeering catcalls: _Chicken!_ _What, are you afraid of a little kiss?_

Not that it mattered what Minako thought.

No, Mamoru's terror was rooted firmly in a different blonde's opinion, and he couldn't decide which he was more frightened of – missing this chance and never getting another opportunity, or finding out from her that he was a terrible kisser and losing any future shot with her.

His pupils were large and his throat was small as his eyes flicked to Usagi, who was picking up a fresh shake from the arcade counter and taking a large slurp through the candy-cane straw. "Mina-chan, nobody cares about the show," she said after she swallowed her big gulp of ice cream.

"I do!" chorused a half-dozen voices around them, and Mamoru didn't bother trying to weigh if he was indignant or grateful to the other senshi and the Furuhatas. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on Usagi, unsure if the way her fingers seemed to tighten around the glass was just his imagination.

Her eyes flicked to his, and he immediately averted his eyes from her to Ami, situated behind Usagi with a small stack of papers and a frustrated expression on her face.

"Mina-chan… if neither Serenity nor Endymion want to participate, I see no purpose in forcing a reenactment of the events of the play for the sake of Motoki-san, even though I'm sure it was highly disappointing for everyone to spend all that time learning their lines and then never even getting to perform them for an audience."

Mamoru's throat instantly parched. _Right._ Usagi had wanted to put on the play, had been sobbing backstage over the fact that it had been ruined.

Almost without a second thought, he crossed the length of the arcade to take her hand in his, pausing only long enough to set her empty glass back on the counter before he led her out into the middle of the floor, fingers clasped with hers.

"I was afraid you weren't going to come," he said, slowly, carefully, eyes boring into hers as he prayed she'd play along.

He watched as the corner of her lip curled up infinitesimally, the slightest sparkle showing in her eyes. "Nothing could keep me from you."

His grasp on her hands tightened unconsciously. "After tonight, nothing will ever be able to again."

Her smile was broad as Minako slipped in between them, having abandoned her post atop the arcade bar at some point during their scene. The blonde carried a copy of the script – the role of their secret officiant had been rolled into Kunzite, after all – and began a highly truncated rendition of their elopement.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered today to unite two souls and two kingdoms. Prince Endymion and Princess Serenity have come forth to declare their love and their intent to bind themselves together for eternity. Endymion, if you would?"

He tried to clear his throat, somehow full of chalk, as he began reciting the words he hadn't needed to memorize. "I, Prince Endymion, only son of King Aithlios and Queen Kalyke, heir to Elysion and keeper of the Golden Crystal, do swear to honor Serenity, to be faithful to her, in sickness and health, through the good and the bad."

Usagi ducked her head shyly, an expression so wholly out-of-character when she wore the garb of Serenity, and the next words nearly stuck on his tongue.

"I will love her and make her happy for all the days of my life."

It was Usagi's turn, and her gaze flashed to Minako before meeting his again, her nails digging slightly into the skin of his wrists. Her eyes on him were steady and deep as she recited the words that sometimes echoed in his dreams. "I, Princess Serenity, only daughter of Queen Serenity, heir to the Silver Millennium and future keeper of the Silver Crystal, do swear to honor Endymion, to be faithful to him, in sickness and health, through the good and the bad."

Usagi's tongue darted between her lips, drawing Mamoru's eyes like a beacon.

"I vow to love him and make him happy for all the days of my life."

Minako smirked and pulled a burgundy satin pouch from her pocket, dumping two silver bands into her open palm and holding them out to the couple standing before her.

His heart squeezed in time with his fist as he picked up the smaller band and slipped it onto her ring finger. His trembling seemed contagious – her hands also shook, almost imperceptibly, as she returned the favor with the larger ring.

"What has been joined, let no one ever put asunder, in this life or the next. Now, as proof of your vows, you may share your first kiss as wife and husband."

The breath stole out of his lungs, fading away into the air between them.

He could feel his pulse pounding – every inch of him seemed to resonate in time with the beating of his heart – as his eyes whisked between her candy-pink lips and baby blue eyes.

_He could kiss her now, and she would let him._

His skin felt tight, tingly, as he leaned forward, his mouth coming dangerously close to hers.

At the last second, he leaned slightly further forward than he'd planned, veering and brushing his lips along her cheekbone instead before pulling back, certain she'd been able to feel his ragged heartbeat through the press of his mouth.

Her eyes were wide and limpid, irises the shade of blue of a cloudless July afternoon, and she exhaled in a tiny breathy laugh that fanned against his lips. "That's one way to kiss the bride," she said, voice low enough that he was fairly sure no one but him could hear her over the end-of-scene applause.

His ears burned, and he felt his shoulders rise up involuntarily to cover them. "You know. First kisses are supposed to be special."

She snatched his hand and pulled him off to the side as Unazuki, Naru, and Umino claimed the center of the Crown floor to heatedly discuss the crumbling alliance between Elysion and the Moon Kingdom.

Combing her fingers through her hair, Usagi crossed one foot – now wrapped in sneakers – over the other. "I never thought you were such a romantic, Mamoru-san," she mused aloud, and he shrugged again, hoping his flush wasn't obvious.

"I don't know about 'romantic.' Just, don't, uh. Don't most girls dream about their first kiss? I wouldn't want yours to end up being some lame play reenactment at your after-school hangout spot."

It was Usagi's turn to raise her shoulders. "...I could think of worse ways."

And without another word she swept away from him and into the current scene as the very picture of Serenity, arguing with her mother and her advisors as naturally as breathing, as if she'd been born to it.

He stood back watching her as his innards evaporated away, his brain dribbling down into his ribcage. Her words stuck in his brain like a refrain from a catchy song. _Worse ways._

He stared as she floated across the arcade in Serenity's dress, not once looking back at him, as though the words she'd just spoken were inconsequential to her.

Meanwhile, his soul had been somehow knocked outside his body and he was left wondering what the hell had just happened and, more importantly, what he was supposed to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm terribly mean!! It's a slow-burn, what can I say!! As always, I'd love to hear what you thought and hope you have a wonderful day!


	10. Mamoru's Panic: An After-School Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot overstate how instrumental FloraOne was in getting this chapter out to you. For whatever reason (probably pandemic fatigue, LBR), this chapter did NOT want to be written, and it was her nudging/cheerleading/support that kept me going (though people's wonderful and encouraging comments didn't hurt either!)
> 
> Thank you, as always, to everyone who has commented, reblogged, kudos'd/fav'd, or in any other way supported me and this story! I appreciate each and every one of you!
> 
> Now, on with the show!

This was it. He was taking Minako's advice. He was going for it.

The dial tone yet again faded into monotonous beeping against his ear, and he set the phone back in its cradle with a groan of frustration.

Or he would be, if he could ever get up the nerve to actually dial Usagi's number.

 _He was being ridiculous!_ he chastised himself. Usagi was a straightforward person. She wouldn't say things like she wouldn't mind him being her first kiss or that the girl he liked was lucky if she didn't mean them.

_And if she meant them…_

He picked up the handset again. The ramen shop hadn't counted as a date. The roses he'd conjured after the play hadn't counted as flowers. If he was going to do this, he needed to REALLY do this. No room for ambiguity or misinterpretation.

He froze again, thumb on the keypad. _But what if she didn't mean them?_

Usagi loved the whole wide world. She probably wouldn't think twice about saying nice things to build him up, even if they didn't apply to her personally.

As he sat paralyzed on his unmade bed, the line began beeping and he slammed the phone back into the cradle.

_If his attempts to woo her were working, but he spoke too soon, he would ruin everything._

If they weren't, and she realized what he was trying to do, he might make her so uncomfortable that she stopped wanting anything to do with him.

_Not saying anything was safer._

But as he resolved to forgo his plans, her face flashed in his mind's eye – painted in a perfect replica of Serenity, but her eyes full of challenge and so, so distinctly Usagi. _I can think of worse ways._

His heartbeat ran away from him, as it had every time he'd recalled that moment over the last seven days.

_What did safe matter, if there was a chance she wanted him, too?_

He plucked the phone from the bedside shelf with a tremulous exhale, pressing buttons as if on autopilot.

For the first time all evening, the dial tone transitioned into a series of jangles as across Juuban, the Tsukino's phone began to ring.

His fingers curled around the handset as he mentally rehearsed the script he'd scribbled down earlier – _Hi, Usagi-chan. How are you doing tonight? I'd really love to take you to dinner. Anywhere you want. What's your favorite kind of chocolate? Can I call you Usako? What's your ring size?_ (Admittedly, that last bit he'd crossed out).

The ringing stopped, and an unfamiliar voice broke the silence – too masculine to be her mother, too young to be her father. "Hello?"

"Uh, hi. Shingo-san, right? I was calling to speak to Usagi-san?"

He could hear the frown in the stranger's voice. "You sound cool. Why do you want to talk to Usagi-baka?"

_Because usually conversations are expected before marriage proposals._

Mercifully, Shingo couldn't see how Mamoru's ears flamed over the phone. He cleared his throat and tried his best to sound casual.

"She's a, uh, friend. Is she there?"

"Nah, she's over at Naru-chan's. And she's out past curfew, too, so she's probably gonna get in trouble whenever she does come home. Call back tomorrow."

With that, Shingo hung up the phone, leaving Mamoru shaking his head. He didn't have Osaka Naru's phone number, and even if he did, he was pretty sure calling her to try to get in touch with Usagi would be received as creepy, not charming.

He would have to wait, it seemed, and pray his confidence didn't run out in the meantime.

Relocating from the bed to the coffee table, he pulled out his schoolbooks, hoping his midterms would provide a sufficient distraction from his anxiety.

Hours later, however, his thoughts were still centered on a certain odangoed blonde, his anatomy notes long ago discarded and European lit serving only to leave a dull ache between his eyebrows.

After nearly four months of moonlight fights, he would have thought he'd be able to identify a Cardian headache when he felt one, but it wasn't until his communicator began beeping that he finally made the connection.

* * *

"Your _other_ right!" Sailor Mars hissed at him as he dove behind the low table in the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding the swing of the Cardian's talons, catching on his cape and shredding the fluttering fabric to tatters.

"Working on it!" he wheezed back, careful not to make too much noise – they were, after all, fighting in someone's cramped bedroom. _Well, not just_ _ **someone's**_.

He averted his eyes from the tangle of gold in the bed, knowing focusing too hard on Usagi's sleeping form would only result in him actually getting blasted by the Cardian – not to mention mocked mercilessly by Minako later.

Still, his heart thrummed with the insistent need to check on her, to make sure she was okay and that the Cardian hadn't managed to drain too much of her energy before they'd arrived – stumbling in through the window and falling onto her bed in a way that would have surely woken her were she not being magically manipulated.

It didn't matter that Sailor Mercury was currently kneeling by the bed and running diagnostics for her, his heart still stuttered protectively. _Making sure Usagi didn't get hurt was_ _ **his**_ _job_.

"It appears to be some kind of sleep Cardian," Sailor Mercury was saying in a hushed tone, holding Usagi's wrist in gloved fingers. "She's alive, but she's been drawn into a very deep slumber."

He'd nearly had a heart attack when he'd pushed through the opened window panes, in front of all the senshi and over their protests, to find the Cardian towering over her bed, teal fingers tight around Usagi's throat as the girl sparkled golden beneath her touch.

The Cardian had looked up at him, red eyes narrowed with malice, and growled "Shingetsu."

He'd lunged for her without thought, without breath, Endymion's sword conjuring in his palm like it hadn't in months.

 _Not Usagi. Never Usagi_.

But Shingetsu had already drunk deep of Usagi's bubbly energy, and her supercharged backhand sent him flying; the sword – knocked loose – narrowly missed fileting a panda plushie settled lovingly on a chair.

Lungs empty from his rough landing, he winced at the deafening clatter of the sword against the moonlit bedroom wall – waking the other Tsukinos would be the absolute worst thing he could imagine right now, and not just because it would give Shingetsu three more targets. Whispering or not, at five in the morning their thudding footsteps reverberated through the house like tiny explosions – surely Tsukino Kenji could hear them?

Before he could right himself, Venus was inside the window, standing tall at the foot of Usagi's bed and throwing a Crescent Beam Shower at the pink-clad monster, filling the small bedroom with a dazzling flash of golden illumination.

Shingetsu deflected with another powerful wriststrike, sending the ray of light ricocheting back out the window and nearly frying Sailor Jupiter.

"Watch it!" the senshi of courage yelped, ducking behind the shutters.

"Sorry!" Venus stage-whispered out the window, then squealed and dove flat along the bunnies-and-moons comforter as the Cardian sent a dusting of gold sparks flittering throughout the room.

The energy-draining sparkles narrowly missed the senshi of love and beauty, and instead settled like a layer of fine dust over the plush pile of pillows in the corner.

"There's not enough space in here!" hissed Jupiter, still lingering in the gap between the glass panes of the window. "We don't have room to fight her all-out!"

Tuxedo Mask, finally reoriented, did the only thing that seemed sensible – an instinctive move he'd performed dozens of times before.

He lunged forward, hurdling the low table, and gathered the pink-pajamaed Usagi into his arms. Then, with a powerful bound, he leapt out the open window.

Ignoring the confused cries of the senshi behind him – he didn't have the time to worry about that – he sprang from the tree up to the Tsukino's roof, then vaulted to the top of the nearest building.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he narrowly outpaced the Cardian, her angry breath coming hot on his heels as she yelled her name in rage behind him.

But that made sense. After all, he'd taken her prey away.

His heels never settled as he traversed the Tokyo rooftops, Usagi so still in his arms that it made his heart twinge. She was an object forever in motion, and to see her unmoving filled him with dread, dragged him back to his worst nightmares.

Pace never slowing, his fingers unconsciously curled around her pallid wrist; his own heart resumed beating at the touch of her pulse, sluggish but steady, and the sounds of the predawn city around them was again able to perforate his fog of anxiety.

From his pocket, he heard the insistent beeping of his communicator, but it was dwarfed by the poisonous snarls of the teal woman only a few strides behind.

Diving from the rooftop, he pulled Usagi tight to his body and rolled along the asphalt of the wharf. He settled in a crouch, body curled protectively around Usagi's as Shingetsu vaulted after them.

The brightening sky refracted a glow across the water of the bay, and when he looked out over the reservoir he could also make out watery shapes homing in on him – in four familiar colors.

He whirled to face the monster as the senshi landed around him, striking their signature fighting poses.

Shingetsu recoiled, hissing, as the guardians formed a barricade between her and her blonde target. The Cardian's chest heaved with exertion, the chase clearly having depleted some of the energy she'd stolen from Usagi. Even so, she seemed unwilling to let her meal go without a fight.

Well, they'd give her that.

"Bubble Spray Freezing!" Mercury's attack split the early morning stillness, coating the docks in a thin sheet of frost that glittered under the first rays of the rising sun.

Held fast by the ice, the Cardian cried her name in a pitiable whine. Her muscles twitched beneath her skin, as though in an awareness that she had the power to protect herself, if only she could move her limbs.

Yet she couldn't, and when Jupiter, Mars, and Venus all yelled in unison, there was nothing to stop the powerful surge of elements from engulfing her.

Her skin bubbled under the heat of their combined attacks before it began melting away, ultimately leaving behind naught but a smoking card.

Tuxedo Mask cradled Usagi's golden head to his chest as the creature died, wincing as the acrid smell of burning flesh flooded the air around them and coated his tongue.

He swallowed hard, unable to clear the unpleasant taste from his mouth, as the senshi advanced on the smoking ring where they'd just blown apart the predator.

"It's dead," Mercury pronounced from behind her visor, tapping away on her keyboard. "And if my calculations are correct, whatever energy it didn't use will be returning to Usagi shortly. We really ought to get her home before she wakes up. And," the blue-haired Senshi looked up at the golden dawn, her eyebrows furrowing "before school, for that matter."

"I'll take her," Venus offered, stepping over to Tuxedo Mask with open arms. "Forget school, I'm going home and sleeping after _that_ night."

His gloved fingers curled protectively around the pajama-clad girl in his arms. Even knowing Venus would take her straight home, that didn't change the fact that a Cardian had made it into her bedroom and none of them had been prepared to stop it. _How was he supposed to let her out of his sight ever again without panicking?_

As the moment lengthened, Venus tapped her foot and then rolled her eyes. "Chiba, I swear. You're not the only one who loves her, and I'm not gonna let anything happen to her. Now either hand her over or take her home yourself, but for the love of god _pick one_ because my pillows are singing to me."

With a swallow through the tightness of his throat, he gently deposited Usagi into Venus's arms, pausing for only a second to stroke her cheek.

Venus threw him one of her gaudiest winks – the kind that seemed to require every muscle in her face – before vaulting into the golden sky and back the way that he had come.

His heart tottered in his chest as he watched the two blondes disappear, and turned back to the remaining senshi.

"I really should have studied more for this test," Mercury was saying. "I'm not confident that I fully grasp the processes that underlie the Doppler effect."

"Yeah, me… either?" Jupiter muttered sardonically, her hands behind her head and one eyebrow arched. "Boy, am I glad we're not in the same class, Ami-chan."

"Well," Mercury said, glancing down at her wrist. "Regardless, school starts in half an hour, and we still have to get ready. I've never been late in my life, I don't want to start now!"

"See you after school," Mars said with a salute, and it was her turn to bound away.

"Yeah, good luck with your test!" Jupiter called, and then she and Mercury were gone, too, leaving Tuxedo Mask alone on the wharf – after all, his first class wasn't until 9am.

* * *

Mamoru trudged down Juuban-dori, brain muzzy and his notes from the day's classes not even half complete. When his eyes had fluttered shut for longer than an average slow blink, Professor Saito had halted the lecture just long enough to kick him out of the auditorium.

Now, the only thing keeping him moving was the promise of coffee and Usagi at Crown. Even running on zero sleep, thoughts of following through with his plans and inviting her on a date with him gave him a sharp surge of adrenaline.

_Beep beep beep._

His stomach twisted, and he tucked the box of candy he was carrying under his arm as he fished the communicator out of his pocket, pressing a button to reveal the face of Makoto, untransformed and smiling.

"Hey Mamoru-san!" she called, and his brow furrowed deeper.

"Makoto-san? Everything okay?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I left a message on your machine at home, too, but I guess you aren't there. Don't worry, no Cardians or anything. We're going to a movie, thought you might want to join us?"

His mouth went a bit dry, a swell of unfamiliar emotion filling his chest. "That's, uh. That's. Thanks."

Makoto shook her head at him with the slightest smirk. "Do you wanna come? I promise we won't pick a chick flick."

He glanced up, trying to blink this strange emotion from his eyes, and instead his gaze landed on a familiar hairstyle through the window of the arcade.

The rest of the moisture left his mouth, and he went rigid as he stared through the glass.

Makoto's chuckle jolted him from his reverie. "Have fun with Usagi-chan, okay? We'll see you another time."

He started to protest, hollow even to his own ears, but the communicator's screen went blank before he could even get out the words "I didn't-"

Left alone with nothing but the view of the love of his life, the box of chocolates under his arm, and the plan to make his move, the rush of panic threatened to overwhelm him.

 _You can do this,_ he repeated to himself with what he hoped was a steadying inhale. _Just go in there and ask her to dinner, somewhere nice. Like you practiced._

The glass doors swooshed open, and he swallowed his nerves, hands buried deep in his pockets as he stepped into the arcade,

He'd already seen her through the window, and his eyes beelined straight to the blonde at the counter.

She was standing on the base of her stool, balancing awkwardly with her arms folded against the formica as she leaned conspiratorially towards Motoki. "I mean, he's older," she was saying in a low voice, twisting a ribbon of hair around her fingers. "And definitely out of my league. How would I get his attention?"

"I really don't think you have anything to worry about, Usagi-chan. I don't know anyone more lovable than you. Any single guy with half a brain would be falling all over himself to date you."

"That's sweet, Motoki-onii-chan, but I don't think-"

"Mamoru! Hey, man," Motoki interrupted Usagi mid-thought, also effectively ending Mamoru's eavesdropping.

Usagi whirled around, and Mamoru automatically set a steadying hand on the small of her back to prevent her from teetering right off her precarious perch on the barstool.

"Hey," he said, looking between Usagi's mortified flush and Motoki's guilty grin.

It didn't take a detective to work out that he'd caught Usagi once again trying to discreetly fish for information about Motoki – he'd just prayed that sometime in the past six weeks she'd moved past that crush.

_Apparently not._

Inhaling through the sting, he shoved the box of Meiji Meltykiss Party chocolates into her arms. "Here," he muttered.

She looked down and then up at him in confusion. "Mamoru?"

"I won't eat them," he said, as though he'd found the box in the back of his closet and was regifting, because that was far less embarrassing than confessing to the forty-five minutes he'd just spent in the aisle of Mon Loire candy store, wracked with indecision. "I thought you might."

She frowned down at the box. "T-thank you."

Motoki bustled away from them, his attention pulled by a patron at the other end of the counter, and Mamoru awkwardly slid onto the stool next to Usagi.

Her fingers danced along the edges of the candy box, and he cleared his throat to crack the silence.

"How, uh, how was Naru's?"

She jerked, spinning in the chair to stare at him. "What now?"

"Oh, uh." He raked a hand through his hair, his heartbeat picking up as he did so. "Yeah, I called you last night, I guess Shingo-san didn't give you the message."

Usagi's eyes bugged slightly and her head swiveled away from him, shooting a glare at the tiled floor. "...murder that baka," she mumbled under her breath, strappy black shoes tapping against the wooden base of the stool.

There was a long moment, in which the only sounds were the murmur of the arcade around them and the tapping of Usagi's shoes, before he cleared his throat, remembering that he had made a promise to himself.

 _A really stupid promise._ But a promise nonetheless, and he knew if he chickened out now he'd only end up home alone again, hiding under the covers and regretting every choice he'd ever made.

"U-Usa. Usagi-san." He cleared his throat again, ears already burning at the fact that he could barely even say her name.

Her tongue poked out between her pink lips for a fraction of a second, and he thought his brain might burst. "Yeah, Mamoru-san?"

"Would you, uh. Would you. I wanted to take you to, uh. If you want to." He could hear his babbling echoing in his own ears. He would have cringed, except Usagi was staring at him with wide eyes full of patience and hope – like she didn't mind at all that he'd never asked a girl out before and had no idea how to do it.

"To… the library?" she asked gently, and he latched on like a drowning man.

"Yes!" he said, because really, he would take her anywhere she wanted to go, and now that she'd said it, he _was_ pretty sure he'd suggested the library to her, weeks ago. "Would you, uh, go with me to the Tokyo Metropolitan Library? If you're not busy?"

She shook her head, sliding off the stool. "I'm not busy."

His heart lurched as she slid the box of chocolates into her schoolbag and looked up at him with a big smile.

"You might have to lead me," she said, shifting her weight between her feet. "Y'know, I'm not the biggest library person."

He nodded, his throat so dry he wasn't sure words would pass through it at the moment. Instead, he thumbed at the door and began walking, Usagi falling into step next to him as though she belonged there.

The silence that stretched between them, however, felt wrong.

Since the day at the school festival, he lived in constant, pulsating anxiety about his awkwardness making Usagi uncomfortable. Again.

And yet, it was happening again. He was certain, if Usagi was with anyone else, she'd be chattering about her day, or sharing the plot of the manga she'd just read, or _something_ other than walking in stilted silence.

He had to break it.

With a shuddering inhale, he dug his hands into his pockets and looked over at her. "So, an older guy? Does he also happen to have blond hair and make a lot of milkshakes?"

Usagi stopped dead, and he began berating himself. _Baka! Baka, baka, baka, what the_ _ **hell**_ _is wrong with you?_

A flush settled over Usagi and she swung her schoolbag like a pendulum. "That's none of your business!" she sputtered as she began walking again, briskly this time so he had to lengthen his strides to keep up with her. "Anyway, what about you? You're going to the library with _me_ of all people? Why not take the girl you like, so you guys can study together?"

He caught up with her, his heart pounding not with the exertion of the walk, but with how badly he'd screwed this up with only a few words. "I'd really like to study with her again sometime, but it isn't one of her preferred pastimes."

Her brow furrowed, and she stopped in her tracks. "Wait, but…"

Her posture and double-meaning of the words between them suddenly slid into place in his brain like the solution to a tricky algebra problem after ten minutes of puzzling.

"It's not Ami-san. And before you get it up in your head, it's not Makoto-san, and it's not Naru-san, either. Nor is it Unazuki-chan, or that girl I saw you talking to outside your school the other day whose name I don't even know. I don't think about _any_ of your friends like that."

"I guess that makes sense, I mean… we'd all be too young for you anyway."

His fingers twitched but he refrained from dragging his hand down his face in frustration. "Less than three years. That's not that big an age gap, not when you really like someone."

She winced slightly and raised her shoulders. "I mean, I didn't think so either, but it's different when you're the younger person, right?"

His heartbeat ratcheted. _Motoki_ , he reminded himself. _She's thinking about Motoki._

"I wouldn't know,"he said instead, clearing his throat, blocked as it was by a giant lump. "I'm the older one."

She went as still as a mouse that had just realized it stood in the path of a cat; for a moment, the only movement he could see was the tendrils of baby-fine hairs blowing about her face in the early summer breeze.

When she spoke again, it was with an odd cadence, a tremble he couldn't remember hearing in her voice before, except through the foggy haze of his own impending demise. "How- how much older?"

"I'm not sure. She's never told me her birthday."

"But you guys are friends, right? How can you be friends and not know each other's birthdays?"

"That's a good question. When is your birthday, Usagi-san?"

Her entire face scrunched. "You know my birthday."

"No, I don't. You've never told me."

"Well, yours is-" she paused, counting on her fingers. "...I know it's after mine," she mumbled after a long moment.

"August third," he supplied, and she nodded vigorously.

"See! After mine." He arched an eyebrow and her nods faded into a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of her head. "...Which is June thirtieth."

A quick calculation ran through his head. _Thirty-five months_. As he'd thought, just under three years, and a period of time that felt inconsequential in light of his feelings for her, their history. Their potential future.

Or, it would if only she felt the same way.

Caught up in his swirling thoughts, he resumed walking next to her along the cobbled sidewalk in silence, his hands dug deep in his pockets. After a few moments, striding past the last of the shops, he idly began humming along with the lilting flute carried on the swell of the wind. Then he frowned in realization, looking around for the source of the music – only for his search to be interrupted when a ferocious green-skinned woman landed directly in front of them.

Allowing impulse to rule him, his hand shot out to grasp Usagi's, tugging her along with him as his mind began to race. She yelped, her fingernails digging into the bones of his hand as he jerked her into a run.

_Not again!_

He'd thought for certain, after defeating Shingetsu the night before, that they had at least a few days before a new Cardian appeared.

He sucked in a breath as he pulled Usagi behind him and into an alley, desperately searching for anywhere to hide her.

_It appeared the enemy was stepping up their game, increasing their aggression._

His eyes traced Usagi's profile as she leaned around a shipping crate, trying to catch a glimpse of the monster, and his rampaging heart tangled in his teeth.

_They were determined to get to Usagi, and soon._

But it didn't matter how the enemy barraged them; he would defend her to his last breath, and beyond. So long as a flicker of consciousness remained in his body, he wouldn't allow anyone to hurt her.

"It's okay," Usagi told him, in a voice too loud to be called a whisper had it come from anyone but her. "This time, I'm going to protect you."

His eyebrows furrowed as he tamped a hand down on her arm, confirming for himself that yes, she was still solid and safe.

"Usagi, what…?"

"Mako-chan's been teaching me karate!" she said, still in that voice loud enough to draw unwanted attention. "If that thing gets close enough, I'll kick its face in!"

His urge to facepalm and his urge to hunt down Makoto and demand to know what the hell she'd been thinking momentarily warred for dominance.

As always, concern for Usagi's safety won out, his fingers curling around her shoulder to keep her with him behind the stack of shipping crates.

"If you kick that thing in the face, it'll kill you. They aren't like human bullies, who you can scare off when you prove to them you're tougher than they thought."

"So we just plan to die if it notices us? No way, I'm going down fighting at least!"

He pressed his lips together in irritation. "You need superpowers if you hope to have any chance of taking down a Cardian."

"Tuxedo Mask doesn't have superpowers! He doesn't use magic or anything, he just stabs them with a sword! I could do that too, I keep telling you I'm not useless!"

The muscles around his eyes twitched. "Then where do you think the roses come from? Or how high he can jump? Tuxedo Mask is _not_ a regular human!"

She stuck out her chin, jaw set in a grimace. "He deserves support."

"He has the senshi," Mamoru said, curt voice clearly marking the topic as closed. Usagi, however, didn't seem to agree.

"Then why is he lonely? Why do they always fight as a unit, and he doesn't? Tuxedo Mask deserves someone who is just _his_. In his corner no matter what."

"And you… you want to be that?" Horrible things were snapping into place in his brain like puzzle pieces. _An older guy. Doesn't know his birthday._ And she'd been flirting with Motoki not twenty minutes ago.

She'd always had a weakness for that part of his personality, but he didn't want to imagine how disappointed she would be when she found out who the other half of Tuxedo Mask actually was. Not her dream guy, just a lonely, awkward stalker with a crush.

She nodded, slowly. "I think he deserves that, even if maybe he doesn't know it."

His chest was tight – with fear, with disappointment – and he cleared his throat. "That doesn't mean it has to be you. You deserve more than… more than a life of pain and suffering and thinking you or your friends might die at any moment."

"And who decides that?! Don't _I_ get a say?!"

"You don't know what you're asking for," he ground out. "If you experienced that life – really experienced it – you'd be wishing you hadn't. Wishing to forget. Trust me."

"But the senshi don't get to choose? _Tuxedo Mask_ doesn't get to choose? They're just stuck, and I get to opt out? How is THAT fair?"

"Because the world would be a worse place without you in it!" His chest heaved with his outburst, and he looked back at her – her pupils had blown wide. "There are other people taking care of it, Usagi. They have superpowers. You don't. Let them."

Her hackles were up, her blue eyes turned to daggers with her glare. "The world would be a worse place without Tuxedo Mask in it, too. He keeps showing up, he keeps saving people! Everybody deserves to be looked after, otherwise what's the _point_?"

He sucked in a painful breath. "Maybe Tuxedo Mask doesn't need looking after."

"Whether he 'needs' it or not," Usagi said, her voice flat, unimpressed. "He still deserves it." She shrugged Mamoru's hand off her shoulder, rising up to her full, petite height.

"Now c'mon. If that Cardian-thing hasn't followed us down here after that yelling, I don't think it's still around."

He rose and followed her out from behind the shipping crates with a frown. She had a point – they'd never been quiet when arguing about her homework or her eating habits or his lack of friends, things that didn't matter. When they were arguing about her safety, well…

But the alley was deserted, no sign of a lurking monster intent on sucking Usagi's energy out through her skin. He stepped in front of her, in case it lay in wait just outside their little hiding place, but no ambush came.

The rest of the walk, short and uneventful, to Arisugawa-no-Miya park, was made in silence as he kept an eye out for a Cardian skulking about in the residential neighborhoods.

His wariness lasted until they crossed the border of the park and into chaos. People were running, screaming, away from the two green-skinned beings at the center of the mayhem. But the Cardian didn't seem interested in following any of the fleeing humans. In fact...

"Is it attacking… ducks?"

Usagi stood next to him in stunned silence as the Cardian jumped into the lake, wrapping her hands around feathered necks as the blue-haired alien man bellowed protests from a nearby tree.

With a bewildered glance, Mamoru met Usagi's gaze; a pronounced crease had formed between her eyebrows, and Mamoru unsuccessfully tried to repress a slight smirk. "Well. Karate might not be necessary."

Usagi muffled a giggle – more of a snort, really – with a hand. "Those poor ducks, though." She reached down and picked up a pebble, tossing it once in her hand. "Can we distract it, do you think?"

A bolt of pure white light split the afternoon air before he could object, and a pair of orange T-strap heels appeared, dramatically balanced on a nearby bench.

"People come to the park for a romantic stroll and to see the beautiful scenery. Attacking the ducks and other wildlife that they come here to see is totally uncool!" Sailor Venus threw one arm out to the side, pointing the other at the new Cardian like a gun.

All around her, heads turned in unison to stare at the orange-suited senshi precariously posed on the back of the park bench.

However, the crowd barely had a moment to gawk at the blonde superhero before Mars and Jupiter burst onto the scene in a clatter of footfalls.

"That's right!" cried Sailor Mars as she skidded to a halt on the asphalt path. "Our feathery friends have done nothing wrong! How dare you attack them?!"

"Attacking innocent birds is just evil!" added Sailor Jupiter, her hands on her hips and her stance wide as she shot a glare between the alien man and the Cardian.

All three of the senshi struck their traditional pre-fight poses, speaking in unison: "Now, in the name of Sailor Moon, we will punish you!"

Usagi blinked. "In the name of… Why does that sound familiar?"

Rather than answer her, Mamoru grabbed her hand again, yanking her behind a nearby shrub and giving a wide berth to the senshi and the Cardian that they were preparing to fight.

"Amanjuuuu!" The blue-haired beast bellowed, leaping out of range of Mars's Fire Soul attack to land behind the senshi.

With a powerful strike of her fist, Amanju bludgeoned Sailor Jupiter across the back of her neck, dropping the tall woman to her knees with a pained cry.

Sailor Venus leapt forward to defend her teammate, receiving a backhand to the face for her trouble. The senshi of love and beauty was sent sprawling across the asphalt paths of the park, her bottom lip split and bleeding.

"It would sure be nice if Tuxedo Mask or Sailor Mercury were to show up!" He heard Sailor Mars grit out before she threw an ofuda at the monster.

His hand instinctively flew to his pocket, but he halted before he could pull out the communicator. Blowing out a breath of frustration, he realized that he couldn't call Sailor Mercury for backup without tipping off Usagi to his true identity.

Crouched next to him, Usagi ran a hand down her face, her eyes closed tight as she furiously mumbled under her breath.

"Usa-" Mamoru reached a hand towards her shoulder, then froze in paralyzing horror as he made out the contents of her muttering:

"Sailor… Moon… Moon Prism… Mo-Moon Prism…"

His throat, drier than kindling, closed up. His fingers trembled as his brain forgot how to process oxygen. But a chiming voice behind him broke his spiraling panic and his ever-present concern for Usagi.

"This Cardian is strong! They won't last long without help!"

He swiveled towards the intruder's voice as a plum-toned cat burst across his field of vision and darted into the fray.

"Luna!" shrieked Usagi, abandoning her half-formed murmurs and her place next to Mamoru behind the shrub to chase after her pet.

Apparently happy to serve as a distraction, the alien feline let out a loud yowl of displeasure and changed her course; she vaulted over a bench and skittered down a path, leaving Mamoru and the senshi behind as she lured away the sailor-suited teen.

He exhaled a pained breath as Usagi disappeared, but when Makoto let out another yelp of pain, he finally realized the gift that Luna had given him.

In his newly abandoned corner of the park, he frantically mashed buttons on his communicator, sending an abruptly phrased message – _110\. Arisugawa-no-miya park. Usagi_. – to the senshi of Mercury.

Then, he produced a rose and his customary flourish; mere moments later, Tuxedo Mask was leaping into the fray, cane in hand and steel-tipped roses at the ready.

Sailor Mars was braced on one knee next to the bench, her thighs trembling with effort as she pooled her energy and shot another Fire Soul Bird at the monster.

The burning wings of the firebird grazed the ferocious woman's curls – aquamarine tendrils frizzing and frying – but then the missile veered wide.

The flaming spirit fizzled in a puff of smoke, leaving the senshi of Mars stranded and exhausted in the shadow of the advancing Cardian.

Fortunately, Tuxedo Mask had years of practice at dramatically timed rescues; swooping in next to Mars, he swept the raven-haired soldier into his arms and vaulted back into the sky with seconds to spare.

"Hey!" Rei snapped, flailing her legs weakly as Tuxedo Mask landed in a nearby tree. "I'm not Klutzy Usagi, I can take care of myself!"

Ignoring her ineffectual protests, Mamoru set her on her feet on the tree branch, then dropped down to land next to Sailor Jupiter, his cape billowing.

Jupiter's face was already lit with blooming bruises, her right eye sporting a particularly impressive shiner, but she retained her defiant glare as she stared down the angry Cardian.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Sailor Jupiter dragged a gloved hand across her mouth before conjuring another blast of electricity with her war cry – "Supreme Thunder Dragon!"

The bestial woman let out a wail as the sparking jaws of the galvanic serpent crackled shut around her. But, unlike previous Cardians, when the electric storm Jupiter had conjured disappeared, Amanju still stood on quavering legs.

"What are you wasting time for?!" the oddly familiar blue-haired alien man snapped at the disoriented Cardian. "Find Chiba Mamoru and kill him already!"

Tuxedo Mask's heart caught somewhere around his jaw. _But they were after Usagi. Why would they want him dead, too?_

"Ail!" The pink-haired woman from the arcade swooped down on them, her hands on her hips and her face sour. "Why are you telling Amanju to go after Chiba Mamoru? We're _supposed_ to be collecting energy for the Makai tree!"

"An! I thought you were… never mind! Just because you have some kind of crush on that Mamoru guy doesn't mean he isn't getting in the way of our mission!"

Mamoru flinched, meeting Makoto's confused gaze. _This… alien, An… had a crush on_ _ **Chiba Mamoru?!**_

"Pah," volleyed An. "You only hate him because you think that Tsukino Usagi girl might like him better than you."

With that, Mamoru was officially awash in a sea of confusion. _But… didn't these aliens want to hurt Usagi?_ None of this made any sense.

He nearly jumped as he felt fingers wrap about his wrist, but relaxed when he realized it was Makoto, not an enemy, who was grabbing onto him.

Clutching Tuxedo Mask's arm for support, Jupiter clambered to her feet, carefully keeping the shifting Cardian in the center of her vision.

But it was only moments later that their field of vision became foggy – so focused on the alien threat, no one had heard Sailor Mercury's cry.

"What?"

"An, this is your fault for distracting me!"

"My fault? Excuse you, Ail, but…"

As a heavy blanket of mist rolled over the park and the two aliens devolved into bickering, Mamoru sensed more than saw Sailor Venus appear on his right side.

"We need a coordinated attack," the senshi of love declared, smoothing a hand through her sheet of golden hair. "This thing is strong, she's not gonna lose to just one of us."

"That's all well and good," said a panting Sailor Jupiter, "But I'm tapped out. How're we supposed to coordinate an attack when we don't have the energy left?"

"Mars?" Venus asked as the senshi of fire and passion joined them on the ground.

"I could probably still charge up a couple ofudas, but I don't think I'll be able to produce another Fire Soul until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

"Mercury, I guess it's up to us, then," Venus said, before tapping her lips. "Unless… You up for it, Princey?"

Mamoru's eyes squinched shut instinctively. "Please don't call me that."

"C'mon, the more of us who are fighting, the better a chance we have to win!" Venus said cajolingly, utterly ignoring his objection.

"Fine, fine, but we'd better hurry. These bubbles won't last much longer."

"Never fear! I have a plan!"

As the fog from Sailor Mercury's defensive attack dissipated only a few minutes later, the fierce blue-haired Cardian came back into view – just in time for Sailor Jupiter to lunge forward and deck her with an impressive right hook.

As the Cardian howled her displeasure, Sailor Mars hurled an ofuda into her face, the charmed object plastering itself to the monster's forehead.

"What? No!"

But they ignored Ail and An; instead, from a safe distance, Sailor Venus again hit her favorite pose on a bench, sending a Crescent Beam Shower hurtling at the monster.

Simultaneously, Tuxedo Mask vaulted out of the last lingering mist, Endymion's sword coated in frost from Mercury's Bubble Spray Freezing. With a powerful and carefully timed strike, he sliced into the Cardian's chest at the same moment that Venus's attack struck her.

Amanju's shriek was painful, unearthly, as her body ripped apart under the combined weight of their attacks. The square of cardstock she left behind was singed black with residual energy even before it fell to the asphalt path and faded away, like all the cards before it.

Mamoru snapped his head up, sword still at the ready, to face the aliens An and Ail… but they had vanished along with Amanju.

There was an eerie beat as the park rebounded, suddenly filled again with the sound of bubbling fountains and quacking ducks, as though nothing had ever been amiss – and then Usagi reappeared, her arms full of cat and her eyes wide.

The odangoed blonde looked from senshi to senshi – to Venus with her split lip, Jupiter covered in bruises, Mars so tired she could barely stand – and her lip quivered.

"Oh my gosh! Are you guys alright?!"

"We've been better, but it's all part of the job, miss," Sailor Mercury said, stepping forward to cover for her wounded compatriots as diplomatically as she could.

"Oh," Usagi's face looked oddly crestfallen. "Can't I do anything to help?"

"That's very sweet, but no," Mercury answered with a gentle smile. "I promise, we'll be just fine. Do you need any help getting home?"

Usagi shook her head, but even as she did, her eyes slid to Tuxedo Mask.

"Tuxedo… Hi."

His ears burned as Sailor Jupiter nudged him forward.

"Hi."

"You, um. Well. I guess you have it now, but you left your sword? In my bedroom? Last night?"

Now his ears really burned. He didn't have to turn around to see the smug look on Minako's face.

"Oh, that… There was a Cardian. Last night. I swear, I don't..."

"No, no! It's, it's okay! Would you actually… would you maybe want to tell me about the Cardian? You could, um. You could…?" She trailed off, her eyes flicking along his form, pausing to linger meaningfully on the bruised arm he'd tucked up against his body.

"...Walk you home?" he suggested, as if he was Mamoru and not Tuxedo Mask – as if that was something he had the right to do in the first place.

But her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "If you're not busy? I have to take Luna anyway..."

He only stood a few feet from Usagi as it was, but Sailor Venus somehow shoved him further forwards.

"He's not busy at all!" she declared with a shit-eating grin, and Mamoru resolved to never again cook curry for the meddling love-senshi.

His eyes flicked desperately from face to face, but not one of the senshi offered an ounce of sympathy or assistance; instead, they all seemed inordinately pleased with his predicament.

He really should decline – he'd only offered it in the first place because he was impulsive and weak and desperate to be around her, no matter the form he took. But it had been his suggestion, and he couldn't quite bring himself to hurt her by taking it back.

He licked dry lips, mumbling "No, I'm… I'm not busy. C'mon."

Usagi practically glowed as she quickly fell into step next to him, her cat tossed over her shoulder and her eyes shining brightly.

In a particularly cruel show of irony, they began retracing the steps that Mamoru and Usagi had followed in their attempt to make it to the Tokyo Metropolitan Library – an attempt wholeheartedly thwarted by the mysterious aliens.

The heels of her school shoes clacked along the cobblestones as they passed back out of the residential areas and into the shopping district. His cape swished behind him as a breeze blew past, and he exhaled with it, glancing to the girl walking next to him.

He nearly jerked out of his skin when his eyes met hers, rapidly swiveling his attention back to the sidewalk beneath their feet. _Tuxedo Mask didn't fit walking down Juuban-dori; how was he supposed to just chat with Usagi like this was all normal?_

"So, there was a Cardian in my bedroom last night?" she asked, breaking the silence, and he winced.

"Sleep Cardian, so says Sailor Mercury," he explained in a way that felt herky-jerky. "She was trying to drain your energy while you were vulnerable and dreaming. The senshi and I, uh, we fought her off, but I left my sword behind, I guess."

"Yeah, I found it this morning! I left it in my bedroom 'cause I would have gotten in trouble if I brought it with me to school. How'd you get it again for the fight in the park? Did you go back to my house today?"

He shook his head. "No, it's… being a superhero comes with some magic benefits."

Her eyes and her smile widened in turn, sending his stomach plummeting.

"So wait, you… You like, summoned it to you? With magic? I forgot my lunch the other day… Can you summon _anything_?"

He shook his head sheepishly. "I don't think so. Just the magical stuff. My powers are supposed to keep me alive, not make my life easier."

Usagi's lips pulled into a tiny moue, but then she shrugged it off. "Still, that's cool that you can do that. Is that how you get the roses, too?"

He shrugged. "I've never thought about it, really," he admitted. "I guess I conjure those from nothing, but it's hard to know for sure without checking every greenhouse in Tokyo."

She snorted. "Imagine," she said with a little grin. "Being the gardener trying to figure out where all your flowers are going, and they're all getting stolen by Tuxedo-Freaking-Mask."

He couldn't help it – he burst out laughing. When he looked back at her, Usagi's eyes were dancing mischievously, the apples of her cheeks creased with a wide smile that made his heart twinge.

As he smiled back at her, her weight shifted from hip to hip, and her gaze dropped to the cobblestone bricks beneath their feet.

"So… I actually… I was hoping to ask for your opinion about something."

She looked up at him with big limpid eyes that made his throat close and his head nod instinctively. Once he nodded, though, Usagi pressed on.

"I like someone… this older boy, and, well…"

His throat had turned to sandpaper, the words scraping through rough, with their edges rasped off. "He likes you back."

Her eyes went big. "He… he does? But then… why hasn't he said anything?"

"Because he knows a girl like you wouldn't feel the same about someone like him."

"But I would! I do!"

He shook his head. "Usako… There are a lot of warts beneath this suit and cape that you don't know about. I don't want you to be disappointed."

She blinked and shook her head violently, golden streamers whipping around her head. "Stop that! The man behind the mask is not like that at all! He's kind, and he's patient. He listens to me, he makes me feel valued. He always has a smile for me, and he makes sure I get fed even though I eat a LOT." At this, she smiled, but it was clearly self-deprecating.

He opened his mouth to object to this – it would never sit right with him, the idea that Usagi thought she was anything other than perfect – but she cut him off before he could get out a word.

"No, please let me finish. He… he deserves more than he would ever ask for." She trailed off, her eyes going soft as she tried to catch his, fingers curling in his lapel. Her next words were breathy, her lips pressed together as if she wanted to hold this idea inside her. "He deserves a lot more than me."

His heart felt like it was twisting apart. _Motoki. She thought he was Motoki._

"I really don't," he muttered instead, but she was shaking her head again.

"You could never disappoint me," she continued, and it was his turn to shake his head.

"Believe me, I could."

Her eyebrows arched, her face morphing into a familiar expression, the one she tended to give Mamoru whenever she thought he was being a particularly big baka. "Any girl who knows the real you would feel lucky to get even a scrap of your affection. I-"

"Usako, please."

Luna shifted abruptly in Usagi's arms, reminding Mamoru that even though the senshi hadn't tailed them, they still had an audience for this awkward little interlude.

"I am not the man you think I am. Please, I can't be responsible for the idea of me that you've built in your mind."

Usagi pressed her lips together. "I haven't…" she trailed off with a shake of her head. "You're wrong," she finally said, and then she spoke no more.

The two finished the walk in an uncomfortable silence, Usagi refusing to make eye contact with the masked hero walking at her side.

Finally, they stopped outside the red-roofed home of the Tsukino family. Usagi finally met his eyes again, just long enough to frown and look away.

Hugging her cat to her body, Usagi pushed past him without saying goodbye – without saying anything.

Once the blonde had disappeared through her front door, not once looking back, Tuxedo Mask bounded into the sky, hopping from roof to roof before finding his way back to the familiar red-tiled roof.

He sank down to a seat on the roof, wincing at the way his crossed ankles pressed against rapidly forming bruises. He adjusted once, twice, until he found a position that didn't cause him pain, making sure he had a vantage that allowed him to watch the comings and goings of the whole neighborhood.

He wasn't about to leave her alone again, not while those aliens were taking an unnatural interest in her.

He settled in with a slow breath to his diaphragm, his arms folding across his knees. As the evening began to lengthen, he pressed his cheek against his sleeve, his mind replaying the afternoon's events without his consent.

Usagi might have agreed to go to the library with Chiba Mamoru, but the moment Tuxedo Mask – the man she thought was Motoki – had shown up, she'd forgotten about Mamoru completely.

She hadn't even thought to wonder if he'd gotten safely away from Amanju.

His heart clenched, and he squeezed his eyes together in the hopes of holding in the painful surge of emotion.

Even with his best efforts, a few tears leaked out from beneath his white domino mask, wiped sloppily away on his cufflinked sleeve.

For all her friendliness, Usagi had just been trying to build Chiba Mamoru up – but his first instinct was right: he was not, and never had been, the kind of man that she could love.

_It turned out he was right not to make that phone call._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't hate me for leaving off there; just the two-part finale left to go! (and yes, it will be split across two more chapters)
> 
> Also, an interesting tidbit about this chapter: I hit the darndest wall of writer's block trying to write it, and ended up jumping forwards and writing most of the final chapter before I could come back and finish writing this one. I guess something about making it internally consistent? Anyway, my point being that the last three chapters (10, 11, and 12) were written more like 10+12 with 11 being written last. I didn't get it all done by my birthday like I hoped I might, but we're very close to the end!
> 
> As always, comments are love and I would love to hear your thoughts. Hope you have a fabulous rest of your day!


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